A Ring! Sweet!
by Mireath Warrior
Summary: LOTR and Napoleon Dynamite crossover...sort of. Mostly LOTR with a bit of Napoleon thrown in. Hilarity ensues, sarcastic comments, that sort of stuff. It's like MST but in written form! COMPLETE!
1. Maybe I Will! Idiots!

Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR or Napoleon Dynamite. Those flippin' awesome characters and places belong to some other people. I quote some stuff from the books. These wonderful quotes were written by the late, great J.R.R. Tolkien, not me.

A/N: This is based off of the LOTR books, not the movies. (Sorry to those of you that have only seen the movies—I know you're out there somewhere gives you evil look). And by the way, I hope you enjoy!

Chapter One: Maybe I Will! _Idiots!_

"Behold Isildur's Bane!" said Elrond as the Ring was set upon the pedestal.

A silence came over the awestruck council.

Boromir stared at the golden thing with a glint in his eyes. "Is this then the doom of Minas Tirith come at last?"

"The words were not _the doom of Minas Tirith,_" said Aragorn.

A long discussion then ensued-you know, the one that goes on for twenty seven pages. Anyway, at the end of this insanely long and rather dull discussion, the council still did not know what to do with the dang Ring. You'd think with all that talking they would have figured it out. Nope. Not so much... Because every conversation in Middle-earth, especially when it's with elves (or Ents), has to be really, really long and exceedingly boring. This is why lots of people don't want to read the books and they just go see the movies instead. And then they don't know what really happened, like how Asfaloth was really Glorfindel's horse, and how the song Pippin sings in The Return of the King is really a song Bilbo made up and Frodo sang in The Fellowship of the Ring, and so on and so forth.

Aaaaat any rate, all sat silent, eyes downcast as if in deep thought.

"Something must be done with this Ring!" said Elrond suddenly, breaking the silence.

For a moment, no one answered him. But then there was heard a loud, long sigh: "Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…….." And then, "I will take the Ring," said a low, half-bored voice (And no wonder. Anybody'd be bored after listening to a forty-page long lecture on the history of Men, Elves, and everything to do with the One Ring) "though I do not know the way."

All the council turned their eyes towards the source of the voice to see a tall, lanky young man slumped in one of the chairs wearing jeans, a T-shirt with the word "Endurance" printed on it above a picture of a horse, and worn-out moon boots.

You know, he kinda seemed to resemble a hobbit. Kind of.

Okay. Maybe he didn't.

"Who are you?" asked Elrond. "You're not the Halfling!"

"Are you sure?" whispered Legolas. "He does have curly hair…"

"He's too tall for a Halfling," snapped one of the other elves.

"He might have had some Ent-draught."

Elrond glared at the two elves and they stopped. "Please, give us your name," he said to the stranger.

"I'm Napoleon Dynamite, and I will take that Ring for you," he replied, staring at Elrond through those half-closed eyes.

"You'll take the Ring?" asked Aragorn in disbelief.

"Yes, I'll take it! What do ya think? That I'd just leave it here? Gosh! You guys are retarded!"

The council froze and stared wide-eyed at this strange, curly-haired guy that called himself Napoleon. They didn't know quite what to think of him, but, hey, at least he was willing to take the Ring. I suppose that counts for something. "Erm…" said Elrond. "Alright then, I suppose. Uh…well, I was supposed to say, 'This is the hour of the Shire-folk,' but considering the current circumstances, I think I'll have to change that. I suppose that this is the hour of…Napo…leon Dynamite," he made a face at the name, "when they, er, _he_ arises from his quiet…uh…"

"Idaho," Napoleon said.

"…from his quiet…Idaho…to shake the, er, towers and counsels of the Great."

"He can't go by himself," muttered a voice with what was a strange accent to the inhabitants of Middle-earth.

"Pedro!" Napoleon said. "You're here, too? Sweet!"

"Who's this?" Elrond cried shrilly when he saw the short, tan kid wearing what looked like a woman's wig on his head.

"That's Pedro," said Napoleon. "He's my friend. Hey, Pedro, did you bring any tots with you?"

"No."

"Oh. Well, that's okay, I guess. I think I still have some in my pocket." Napoleon unzipped his pocket and thrust his hand inside. "Yup."

He pulled out a mashed blob of tater tots and took a bite. "Ugh!" he groaned, throwing the tots to the ground. "This tastes like a decroded piece of crap!"

"What manner of creature _are_ you?" asked Boromir.

"I'm a human. What do you think? _Idiot!_"

By now the council was thoroughly confused. Gimli and Glóin sat back in their chairs, sputtering underneath their beards, Aragorn's jaw was hanging wide and his eyes were staring, the elves looked a bit flustered at having such a strange person in their abode, Boromir chewed nervously on his fingernails, Bilbo didn't seem to notice that anything was wrong, and Gandalf had taken off his pointed hat and was scratching his head in bafflement. Where had this fellow come from?

"Tell me, my lad," said Gandalf at last, "where did you come from?"

"I already told you," said Napoleon. "Idaho. I used this time machine that Kip and my Uncle Rico bought on online. It didn't work the first time we used it…

"But we found out we had the wrong crystals. The freakin' idiot we got the machine from sent us the wrong ones, so we had to get some other ones."

"Online? Time machine? What is this devilry you speak of?" asked Boromir. He looked like he was about to start laughing hysterically. Poor thing. He'd been sent to Imladris to see if the rumors about the Ring were true and now here he was trying to figure out what in Middle-earth was this strange sorcery called 'online' and where in the world those horrid boots the strange chap was wearing came from. His brain started to hurt. He hoped it wouldn't explode.

"It's called 'technology.' Haven't you ever heard of it? Ugh!" Napoleon retorted.

"Yeah. It's pretty cool," agreed Pedro.

"No, it's…it's incredible."

"Yes. It is."

By now, Elrond had had enough of this tomfoolery and he held up his hand to stop the odd conversation. "Well, whatever it is, it is far less 'incredible' than the danger that is now near at hand. I am afraid to appoint you, Napoleon," he made a face at the name again, "for this perilous task, but it seems you are the only one who will bear the burden of the Ring. And as for you, Pedro," disgusted face, "you shall go with him, for it seems that I could hardly separate you, especially when the both of you have managed to invade a secret council that neither of you were summoned to."

Elrond went then to the pedestal and held his hand out towards the golden thing. "I give this task to you, Napoleon." Twitch. "Come, and take the Ring."

Napoleon stood up and walked towards it, trying to be as serious and reverent as he could. Pedro almost smiled in amusement. Almost.

Napoleon picked up the Ring, and—to the astonishment of the entire council—slipped it on his finger and vanished.

"Sweet!" came his disembodied voice. "It makes me, like, invisible!"

"Take it off! Take it off!" shouted Elrond in horror. "Ere the Eye turns its sight on Rivendell, take it off!"

"Alright! Maybe I will! Gosh!"

Then all of the sudden, there stood the strange, bespectacled lad once more. "You know," he said, "you guys are way too tense."

Disgusted beyond reason, Elrond turned away and started rubbing his temples, muttering in Elvish something ill about the race of Men. Aragorn glared at him.

Gimli and Glóin stared at nothing in particular, completely distraught and baffled, Bilbo still didn't notice anything was wrong (he was still waiting for the part where he was supposed to sing), Legolas and the other elves soon followed in suit with Elrond and started rubbing their temples—simultaneously, Boromir was trying not to hyperventilate, and Gandalf sat stroking his long, white beard. He feared greatly for the fate of Middle-earth.

And what had happened to Frodo—and Sam—anyway?

A/N: Oh no, what's going to happen to Middle-earth? Where _are_ Frodo and Sam? You probably already know that one. Shouldn't be too hard to figure out. But for those of you who still don't know, you'll have to wait till I post the next chapter. It might have something to do with llamas.

And could you imagine poor Elrond trying not to choke on those horrid names? "Napoleon" and "Pedro" are so rough on delicate elvish ears, are they not? Hehe.


	2. A Nice Pickle We've Landed Ourselves In

Disclaimer: Again, I don't own Napoleon Dynamite or LOTR. And so I don't have to do this for every chapter, this applies to the rest of the story.

Chapter Two: A Nice Pickle We've Landed Ourselves In, Mr. Frodo!

"Napoleon!" Uncle Rico called as he wandered through the house, chewing on a piece of beef jerky. "Napoleon! Go feed Tina!"

He come to Napoleon's door and heard a tape playing on Napoleon's television: "Welcome to D-Qwon's dance grooves, are you ready to get your groove on?"

"Yes," he heard two small voices answer.

"Alright then, let's get started!"

"Napoleon?" Uncle Rico said and pushed open the door, but when he saw the two hobbits standing in front of the T.V., trying to get their groove on, he stopped. "Hey! What do you kids think you're doing here?"

Frodo stopped trying to moonwalk and stared at Uncle Rico. He was looking quite ridiculous anyway. "We're not 'kids,'" he replied. "We're hobbits from the Shire. I am Frodo, son of Drogo and this," he pointed to his companion, who was busy doing disco moves (but failing miserably), "this is Samwise Gamgee, my gardener."

"You kids are something else," Uncle Rico said shaking his head and taking another bite of jerky. "Well, since I can't find Napoleon, why don't you go feed Tina?"

* * *

Sam held out the tray of tater tot casserole as Frodo scooped up a big glob of it in a large, black spoon. As Frodo held it up towards the llama, Sam curiously sniffed the strange food he held in his hands. "Taters?" he wondered. "They smell like taters."

He then took a huge handful of the stuff and bit into it. He chewed it for a moment, trying to figure out what in the world it was. Upon swallowing, he still didn't know what it was, but he decided that he liked it anyway. He took another bite.

"Tina, eat the food," said Frodo, holding the spoon high over his head.

The llama snorted and backed away.

"Tina!" Frodo shouted. "Tina, eat. Food. Eat the FOOD!"

The llama turned its head away, tugging at the rope that tied it to the fence. "Accursed creature!" Frodo cried, hopping madly. A bit of the casserole fell off the spoon and landed in a big, messy glop amongst his curls. Sigh. It was going to take him hours to get all that out. Ten rounds of the bath song ought to be enough. Maybe. On second thought, better make it twelve.

Outraged, he threw the spoon to the ground and stalked off, muttering, "I'll warrant that not even your old Gaffer could feed this wretched beast!"

"You're probably right," Sam sighed, setting down the tray and following after his master (but not before he took another bite of the casserole). "It's hopeless."

Then Uncle Rico stepped outside holding a football, a camera, and a tripod in his hands. "What do you two think you're doing? I told you to feed Tina. Now go do it or your—I mean, Napoleon's grandma won't be happy when she comes back."

Sam sat down, blushing and muttering. "A nice pickle we have landed ourselves in, Mr. Frodo!" he said, shaking his head.

"And stop the whole 'Lord of the Rings' bit!" Uncle Rico called as he threw the football at the camera. "You're not fooling anyone!"

A/N: Oh dear! Frodo and Sam in Idaho? Ah, this should get interesting. Very interesting...

Sorry the chapter was so short, but I'm doing it in a different style than the Napoleon and Pedro chapters. See, those chapters will be done similar to LOTR chapters (but not nearly as long, thank goodness) and the Frodo and Sam chapters will be done in random scenes like in the Napoleon Dynamite movie. It should be great fun!

And what are Napoleon and Pedro up to in Middle-earth anyway? Hee hee...you'll just have to wait and see! But here's a hint, they start to confuse even Gandalf to the point of insanity. Oh yes, it shall be jolly good fun!

By the way, thank you to all my reviewers so far:

Master Akane: Yes, I shall update soon. Is now good?

therealariel: No, Frodo and Sam don't like it very much in Idaho so far. They especially hate feeding that dang llama!

ArcticWolfe: Your name sounds familiar. Any relation to ArcticWolves on the Baten Kaitos forums?

homeschool chic: I'm updating now! Gosh! And I caught you a delicious bass.

Lirimaer Elearie: Wow. So many compliments in one review! And I hope you're not one of those people that's only seen the movies...jk :D

Earendil Eldar: Yes, I was very surprised too that no one else has done this crossover yet. I looked through many pages of LOTR humor and didn't see it anywhere. _Idiots!_

Rhapsody: Oh yes, Napoleon at the Council of Elrond! Couldn't you just see him driving the elves completely _mad_ ! LOL! Nice name by the way. Are you a music-type person like me?

And on that note, if you didn't see your name here and you posted a review before I updated, I probably didn't see it (you know how long it can take for those things to show up sometimes) and I will get to you when I can.


	3. Do You Have Any Sweet Skills?

A/N: Chapter 3! Yay! And thanks to all my reviewers for the wonderful reviews so far! I didn't think I'd get so many this fast! w00t!

Chapter Three: Do You Have Any Sweet Skills?

Right after the council ended, a meeting was held in Bilbo's room. "Who are you?" shrieked Merry and Pippin in unison as Napoleon and Pedro both walked in.

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh……" sighed Napoleon. "Do I have to tell everyone? I'm Napoleon Dynamite and that's Pedro, you flippin' retards!"

Merry and Pippin had no idea how to reply to that. They both sat down and kept their mouths shut. For the moment.

"At any rate," said Gandalf, also entering the room, "Elrond has decided, though I believe with great fear and reluctance, that this young man shall carry the Ring to Mordor.

"Light of the Valar, please help us," he muttered as an aside and then spoke up once more, "However, nothing else has yet been decided."

How typical. Yes, Tolkien, have us read forty pages of Elvish ramblings on the history of everything and then still not have anything decided. Thank you, thank you so very much. But I guess at least we know what to do with the Ring now, right?

"Nothing decided!" cried Pippin.

See, he agrees. Your own character agrees with me. That's probably not a good sign. "Then what were you all doing? You were shut up for hours."

"Elves are known to have really long discussions. Gosh!" said Napoleon. "Don't you guys know anything?"

"Yes," agreed Pedro. "They talk a really long time."

"Talking," said Bilbo. He still didn't notice that Frodo and Sam had been replaced. Poor old chap. Too many days spent singing with the elves, I think. Should've stayed in the Shire. "There was a great deal of talk, and everyone had a real eye-opener."

"I'll say," said Merry, folding his arms and glaring at Napoleon. He didn't know if he liked this fellow. He probably had Frodo bound and gagged somewhere for all he knew. And that strange lad he brought with him, he probably did the same to Sam.

"Now, now, dear Meriadoc, don't get in all of a bother about this," said Gandalf. "These two young lads are apparently all that we've got right now." He swallowed hard.

Merry snorted and turned his gaze away.

"Well, Elrond's called another council this afternoon and we're all to attend this time, if you don't mind. Speaking of which, it's nearly time. Let us go."

After some more talking (thankfully not as much this time as in the last chapter) Elrond spoke, saying, "The Company of the Ring shall be Nine; and the Nine Walkers shall be set against the Nine Riders that are evil."

"What!" Napoleon interrupted suddenly. "We have to fight nine evil guys? How do you think we're gonna do that? We'd all have to have sweet skills."

"Yeah, pretty sweet skills," said Pedro. "Napoleon says I'm good at getting chicks."

"Well, I'm quite sure those I have chosen have these 'sweet skills' you speak of. Now, if it pleases you, I ask that you not interrupt me until I have finished."

Pedro and Napoleon both nodded and sat back in their chairs.

"Along with Napoleon and Pedro," Elrond looked as if he was going to choke this time at saying those names, "Gandalf will go; for this shall be his great task, and maybe the end of his labours.

"For the rest, they shall represent the other Free Peoples of the World: Elves, Dwarves and Men. Legolas shall be for the Elves; and Gimli son of Glóin for the Dwarves. For men you shall have Aragorn son of Arathorn, for the Ring of Isildur concerns him closely. Boromir will also go. There remain two more to be found."

"What about the short guys over there?" asked Napoleon. "Don't they need to represent their people too? Gosh!"

Merry and Pippin looked wide-eyed at him, both shaking their heads and mouthing, "No, no, no, no!" If Frodo and Sam were still there, I betcha they would've been _begging _to go. Hehe.

"Let it be so then. Merry and Pippin shall go also," Elrond sighed. He just wasn't going to win this one was he?

Both of the hobbits sank back in their chairs, crestfallen. Oh dear, this Napoleon guy just _had_ to mention them to the Elf, didn't he. Great. This was going to be so much fun.

* * *

After the council was over (finally) the Fellowship began to make preparations for their journey. "So," said Napoleon to Gandalf, "Are you one of Scotland's local wizards…" 

"What?"

"…summoned by Sir Godfrey of the Nessie Alliance to cast a protective spell over Loch Ness and its local residents and all those who seek for the peaceful existence of our underwater ally?"

"Boy, I have no idea what you are talking about!" shouted Gandalf. Now even he was beginning to get irritated. And that doesn't happen too often. Except when Pippin's around, I suppose. "I am Gandalf the Grey and Saruman the White was the head of my order."

"Sweet!"

Silence.

Then: "So what skills does everyone that's coming with us have?" wondered Napoleon.

"Skills? What do you mean?"

"You know, like nunchuck skills, bow hunting skills, computer hacking skills..."

"Well, Legolas can shoot a bow and wield twin elvish blades and the others are good with the sword, I suppose. I have my staff. And what of you? What are your…erm…'skills?'"

"You know, there's like a butt-load of gangs at my school. This one gang kept wanting me to join because I'm pretty good with a bo staff."

"I see," said Gandalf, trying comprehend this strange creature now speaking to him. "And what of your friend?"

"He's really good at hooking up with girls. And he's class president, so I guess he's a pretty good leader."

"Pedro? A leader? I should hardly say he looks like one! I sure do hope you are right," Gandalf replied, staring incredulously at Napoleon's friend.

"Yeah. I am a good president," Pedro said. "I can make all your wildest dreams come true."

"Oh dear," muttered Gandalf, shaking his head. If helping these two take the Ring to Mordor was going to be his last great task, he would definitely remember it for the rest of his days—providing of course that these two didn't get him killed on the way there.

A/N: Poor old Gandalf! Those two just might give him a heart-attack before they get to Mordor! Hehe.

So in the next chapter, you'll get to see Sam and Frodo trying to survive in Idaho. What happens when Uncle Rico makes them watch his videos and Kip drags them to Rex's lessons? You'll have to wait and see!

And now, time to thank all my wonderful reviewers!

fifithepinapplegoddess: What a long name you have! But it's so very funny! And I'm glad you liked the story.

Master Arkane: Thank you so much for the compliment! And is now good to post another update? Yeah, I thought so.

Jaina Kenobi: Jaina, Jaina, Jaina. What can I say? You live across the hall from me and hear a lot of this stuff before anyone else. Thanks for reviewing it and no, I don't think we will be going to the gym today because it's now midnight and I think that's too late. And one more thing: Do your homework! ;)

ArcticWolfe: Yes, and it only starts to get better from here. Hee hee. Just wait till you read the fourth and fifth chapters...

Earwen of the elves: Yeah, why _hasn't_ anyone done this before? Flippin' retards! Gosh:P

soulee: Oh yes, Napoleon and Pedro will be creating much trouble in Middle-earth! When they finally get to Mordor, even Sauron might not know what to do with them!

Auta Miqula Orqu: What a cool penname you have! And you know Elvish too! That totally rocks! And yes, I shall continue because this is way too much fun. Much better than doing my homework...something I should probably doing right now.

lanthir1: What terror indeed? Oh, lots of stuff, I assure you. Hee hee. :P

NoroLimAsfaloth: Yes, run, Asfaloth, run! ;) Yeah, I almost didn't think of writing this either.

crybabyfan1: You're a fan of crying babies? Hehe. JK. And look! I updated it! w00t!


	4. At the Sign of Rex Kwon Do

A/N: And it's that time again…time for the next chappie! And there's some Frodo (and possibly Sam) OOC, but it's funny that way.

Chapter 4: At the Sign of Rex Kwon Do

After having washed all the tater tot casserole from out of his hair (it actually took him _fifteen_ rounds of singing the bath song), Frodo and Sam were stopped on their way to the kitchen by Uncle Rico. "Hey, you two," he said, "since you're going to hang around here anyway, you might as well come watch my tape and tell me what you think of it."

"Watch your _what?_" said Frodo. "What is a 'tape'? And why should we desire to watch it, may I ask?"

"Didn't I tell you to stop it with the hobbit thing? Anyway, just come watch, I guarantee you'll like it."

"This is the strangest thing I believe we've ever seen, right Sam?" said Frodo, trying to make out what it was the figure on the screen was trying to do exactly. "I've seen better performances at _The Green Dragon_."

"And _your_ little song at _The Prancing Pony_ was quite entertaining as well, don't you forget that," said Sam.

Frodo nodded thoughtfully, flinching when he remembered how he'd fallen off the table on the last round of the song. No more singing and dancing on tables for you, Mr. Frodo.

"You sound just like Napoleon," Uncle Rico shot back. "How old are you two? Nine? Ten?"

"I'm fifty, and Sam just reached his thirtieth birthday or so awhile back," Frodo replied. "I hope to reach eleventy-one one day, just like dear old Bilbo."

" 'Or so?' Why, Mr. Frodo, have you forgotten how old your dear friend is already?"

"I'm guessing you both are around ten. You're both too young to understand this kind of thing." Then Uncle Rico leaned back on the sofa, remembering his glory days of football in 1982. "I would've taken state, I tell ya. No doubt in my mind, not at all."

"Hey, what are you guys doing?" asked Kip as he came into the room and sat down on the floor to strap on his rollerblades.

"Oh, nothin', just watching my football tape."

"Oh yeah, that one. It's a masterpiece, I tell you. Pure genius. Hey, who're the kids?"

"We're hobbits!" shrieked Frodo. "For the last time, we're _hobbits!_"

"Oh, right, the two kids who think they're from _The Lord of the Rings_ that you told me about earlier."

"Begging your pardon, sir," said Sam as politely as he could, "but we're not from the Lord of the Rings. He's a nasty person, sir, and I don't think anyone can be from him. We're from Hobbiton in the Shire, west of the Misty Mountains."

"I see what you mean, Uncle Rico," said Kip. "They are a little…a little, uh, strange, yes."

"Yeah," Uncle Rico answered. "So are you going to Rex's lessons or whatever now?"

"Yes, yes, as a matter of fact, I am. And why don't you two come with me? I think…I think you could definitely benefit from learning some of his moves if you're going to pretend you're hobbits all the time. Never know when some big guy's gonna, uh, gonna beat you up for  
something like that."

* * *

"Welcome to Rex Kwon Do once again," grunted Rex, still wearing those ridiculous American flag pants. Yeah, they're so...tough...looking. I'm sure if I wore pants like that, I'd never get beat up either. Right. "I see we have a couple of newcomers here today, but aren't you guys a bit young for this? I'm here to teach you how to fight like a lion and think like a man, but you two look like you're what, ten years old, eleven at the most?"

"For the _last_ last time, we are not kids, we are hobbits and we aren't ten years old, we're full-grown hobbit-men!" Frodo said with restrained anger. You better watch it, Rex, you don't want to make hobbits angry! (And I don't think those pants of yours help too much...)

"Yeah, sure, whatever. Kids just get stranger and stranger these days. I'll tell you what, I'll let you stay, if you like, but I'm going to have to ask you to be a part of my demonstrations. And you know what? Today I was going to start on defense from double attack today, so you two will be perfect. Now get up here."

The two hobbits, not quite sure what this man was up to, obeyed, their curiosity getting the best of them. Perhaps they could teach this man a lesson, hm? They had run into Ringwraiths before and compared to them, this guy was…well, he wasn't as scary as a Ringwraith, that's for sure.

"Alright, now hit me, punks."

Sam and Frodo exchanged glances and nodded. Sam went for Rex's legs, hugging them as tightly as he could and Frodo leapt onto Rex's back and began pounding on his head with his fists.

"Ow! Ow! Stop it! Stop it! You were supposed to try and hit me, not attack me! Starla! Help me!"

Good thing Starla had come with Rex today or those hobbits would have had him pinned to the ground in no time, I tell ya.

Starla snatched Frodo from off of Rex's back and held him kicking and squirming under her arm. She then leaned over and grabbed Sam, putting him in a headlock. Man, those nasty, vicious hobbits! They're _monsters _aren't they? "I think you two have had enough today."

"Gosh, you guys," said Kip. "You think you could teach me some of those moves?"

Rex glared at him. "You think these two little wimps could beat me in an honest fight? Well, do ya?"

Kip shook his head.

"That's what I thought. Now as for you two," he Rex said, pointing his finger in Frodo's face. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave now."

Frodo opened his mouth and bit his finger.

"OW! What did you do that for?"

"Fine with us," said Frodo. "We don't much like you anyway."

"Starla, show them to the door."

Starla took the hobbits, one under each arm, and threw them out onto the street.

"Well, Mr. Frodo, that was a nice mess we got ourselves into…again," said Sam. "What do you suggest we do now?"

Frodo looked up at the sky and determined that it must have been past noon. Suddenly he felt very hungry. They'd missed second breakfast and elevenses earlier. "Let's go back to that house and find some food," he said and started down the street.

"Good idea, Mr. Frodo. I'm famished."

"And for future reference, fingers don't taste very good."

"Right, Mr. Frodo. I'll be sure to remember that."

A/N: I don't think that was quite as entertaining as the last one, but oh well, you can't be outrageously funny all the time. :P

But seriously, two hobbits attacking Rex? Man, I could just picture that in my head. Rex flailing his arms and screaming in girly terror as two cute little hobbits mercilessly assail him! Oh, yeah, that'd be a funny sight to see. Sigh. If only, if only.

Anyway, in the next chapter, we'll see if Bilbo finally figures out that his dear nephew isn't there. Probably not, but it's funny to watch…er…read anyway. Senile hobbit. Oh, that's such a great phrase, I'll say it again: senile hobbit. Ha ha…yeah…

Time for reviewer responses!

Auta Miqula Orqu: You don't have to wait any longer. Here's chappie 4! And I'll probably post the next one tomorrow. And I regret to say I don't know what your name means:( but here's what your penname would be if you did a nyranic insult: _Wekh sôlfänn shirtúnën. _(Nyranic is a language I invented for some books I'm working on).

Master Arkane: Yes, torturing Sam and Frodo in Idaho is much fun! And if you have any ideas that you want to see me do, just tell me and I'll see what I can do. (And this goes for everyone. :D)

crybabyfan1: Uhhhhhhhhhhh……….is it someone I know?

ArcticWolfe: Yes, it can get quite difficult trying to keep Frodo and Sam in character while trying to stay true to the Napoleon Dynamite movie. I do my best, though:D

homeschool girl: You're welcome and you can have more delicious bass whenever you want cuz I have like an infinity of them. And thank goodness Frodo got the tots out of his hair, huh?

Jaina Kenobi: Good to know I had you in stitches. Funny, I couldn't hear you and my door was open. But see, I'm so much more witty and eloquent in writing, don't you agree?

Nithke: Yes, this was a really random idea I came up with really late at night. Or when I was supposed to be paying attention in class. I can't remember. And you're right, maybe I should come up with some original lines for them. Got any ideas? I'd be happy to hear some!

Ness: Ness, like in Loch Ness? Lol. JK. Glad you like the story so far, although a couple of the ones in the N.D. section are entertaining, too.

Snodgrass Winkle: What a great name! It's hilarious! I'm delighted to see you like my story so far, too. And tell Pedro I thank him for offering me his protection.

Kathleen Stanton: I have sweet writing skills? Yesssss. I was going for that. No, seriously, I was! And I just updated! Gosh!

Jae: Wrong, maybe, but oh so funny! I bet you I have Tolkien turning over in his grave now…

BanbieBunny: I think I shall call you "BambieBunny" because, I dunno, I just saw a commercial for Bambie and remembered that one of his friends was a bunny. Meh. Anyway, don't worry, cuz you'll get to see more of Frodo and Sam trying to deal with Uncle Rico as well as with Kip and Deb and all the others. Like LaFawnduh. Oh, I just got an idea! Hehe…

iloveelves: Well, I love hobbits, but that's just me. And yes, Napoleon Dynamite is a stupid movie, but that's why I love it! Yay for stupid movies!


	5. I'm Not a Hobbit! Freaking Idiot!

A/N: Finally, I'm updating this chapter. w00t! Sorry I can't update everyday like I started out doing. Got lots of stuff to do. Like next week. I've got three tests and a speech to do, so sadly, I shan't be posting many new chapters till all that's done. However, you should enjoy this one and any of the previous ones until I find the time to post the next ones!

Chapter 5: I'm Not a Hobbit! Flippin' Retard!

On the morning of the last day Napoleon was alone with Bilbo, and the old hobbit still didn't know that he wasn't Frodo. I mean seriously, this short old dude had no freaking clue. You'd think he'd be able to tell the difference between a tall, lanky blonde kid with glasses and a short little fifty year old hobbit, but no. Not so much.

"So like what do you want me in here for? I was going to draw a picture for Arwen. Gosh!" said Napoleon, taking a seat. Yes, cuz your drawings are fantastic. (Author rolls her eyes…And Jaina, you know I have every right in the world to say that about his drawings. As well as this: It burns our eyes! It burns us, precious! Please take the nasty, horrible drawing away from us!)

"Now don't get so worked up, Frodo my lad. I just asked you in here to give you something," replied Bilbo, taking out a worn leather scabbard with a sword out of a box.

Napoleon just stared for a minute. What a freaky old dude, this guy was. "You're some kind of freaky old dude," he said. "And my name's not Frodo. It's Napoleon. Idiot!"

"Oh, Frodo, stop playing games with me. You know you're too old to be playing games of make believe. And besides, what kind of name is 'Napoleon?' If I were to pretend to be someone I'm not, I'd pick a name like Minyadúlin or Banâtheke. Those are nice right names, yes."

"Those are probably the worst two names I've ever heard."

"At any rate," continued the poor senile hobbit as he pulled the sword from its scabbard. "This is Sting. Take it, if you like. I shan't want it again, I expect."

Napoleon took the sword and stared at it for a minute. Or at least, I think he was staring at it. Can't tell when it looks like he's half asleep all the time. "Gosh! This thing is like a knife! What the heck am I going to do with that? I'd rather have my freakin' 12-guage! I could take out an infinity of orcs with that! And I'm probably also one of the only people here that knows illegal government ninja moves."

"You're being silly, my lad," replied Bilbo. "Did I not just tell you to stop playing make believe? But if I suppose if that is what you really want to do, then by all means. I do think it a bit strange, though. And you got poor Sam in on it too. Now he thinks he's some boy named 'Pedro.'"

"That's because his name is Pedro! Friggin' idiot!"

"Well, I suppose if you two want to play that game, then go right ahead. It is a bit strange, though. At any rate, I have something else for you."

"I hope it's chapstick. I could really use some of that right now."

"No, I'm afraid I don't have any of that, whatever it is, but I do have something, something even better." Bilbo pulled out the mithrill shirt. "It's a pretty thing, isn't it?"

"Gross! That thing isn't pretty! It looks like a shirt my grandma would wear."

"You don't have a grandmother, my dear boy. She died many years ago. But this shirt shall protect you from all harm if you wear it. You can wear it under your shirt and no one would know! Now go on! Put it on!"

"No way! That thing will never fit me!"

"Oh, well, I suppose you don't have to put it on right now if you don't want to. But promise me you'll take it with you."

"Fine. Maybe I will! But only because I kinda feel sorry for you. You're so…senile."

Napoleon took both the shirt and the sword reluctantly. Bilbo smiled. "There you go, my lad! As long as you have those with you, no orc in Mordor could harm you!"

"Bilbo?" came a voice from somewhere and then Elrond appeared in the doorway. "Bilbo? Ah, there you are. Oh dear Elbereth, what are you doing in here?" By now, he had gotten a grand old migraine, but, being an Elf and all, he tried his best not to show it. However, with Napoleon and his strange companion around, he didn't know how much longer he could take it.

"He asked me to come here to give me some junk. What do you think!"

"I think I should be quite glad to see you go, although I doubt you shall ever return, that is what I think," Elrond snapped. "Now come, for I must give the Fellowship more counsel before you set off."

"Ugh! Not more talking! Don't you guys ever do anything besides talking and singing? Gosh!"

No, Napoleon, unfortunately they don't. And you see, that's why they had to leave Middle-earth: not because their time had ended, but because everyone else had found them so exceedingly dull, beautiful and mysterious though they were, they were practically begging them to leave. Tolkien didn't explain it that way, though, because he didn't want to have to tarnish their reputation of perfection. So instead, he said they were leaving because the time of Man had come. Nice cover up. Yes, indeed.

And they shall be gone soon enough, but for now, you both better play nice because you'll be seeing a lot more of each other on the way to Mordor. By the Valar! I hope you don't torture Celeborn and Galadriel too much!

TBC…

A/N: Ah…another chapter done. And it's now 12:45 in the morning, but I'm a night owl, so I don't care. Anyways, I don't know quite what to do with the next chapter yet, but I'm sure I'll think of something sooner or later.

So. Reviewer Responses! The best part!

Jaina Kenobi: But I usually hear you even when your door is shut. Must've had my music up real loud or something. And now I think I have 50 points. Yessss!

Gods-girl2004: I like your penname. Very nice. Here's a smiley! (gives you a smiley face sticker). And thanks for reading my random story. Reviews are much appreciated!

ArcticWolfe: Lol. Yeah, it'd be really funny to see him being attacked by people that are only around three feet tall! Especially if they could learn some of those illegal government ninja moves Napoleon always talks about.

homeschool girl: But it _would _be really funny if he did dress like Peter Pan. And I mean the real Peter Pan: the green tunic, tights, and everything. Mwa ha ha ha!

Jae: No, they didn't mess up his pants, but they tried. Oh well, maybe next time. Hehe. And if Tolkien could read this, he'd probably be really really angry and then I'd just say, "Oh, come on, you know you think it's funny. Admit it." And he would just glare at me and then I'd run away really fast.

Auta Miqula Orqu: "Go kiss an orc." Love it. Mine isn't quite so much an insult to us, we being humans, but to a nyran, especially Gélidir (one of my main characters), it's a high offense. It means roughly: What a tortured soul! A better one would be _Teth inlathkh ngi tunenn, koltkh fintess_, which translates into "You're an ugly, slow-witted git."

crybabyfan1: Johnny Depp! Aw, I shoulda known that! I just made a wallpaper of him as Jack Sparrow a couple of days ago and he's one of my favorite actors too.

A/N: Well, that's all for now, I suppose. Tune in next week, same Bat time, same Bat channel. Or not. I don't know when I'll be updating next, actually. So I guess we will see. Maybe tomorrow or the next day, or the next day, or…whenever I find the time.

Dang tests! Curse you! Curse you all! Because I actually have to pay attention instead of coming up with these silly random stories. Oh well, there's always the weekend and, oh! Spring break in a couple of weeks! How can I torture the peoples of Middle-earth. Oh, let me count the ways…

(btw, I came up with a really good idea for the part when the Fellowship is attacked by orcs at Amon Hen. But for now it's a secret, so you'll have to wait till we get there before you can read it!)


	6. Boondoggle Keychains

A/N: Fifty one reviews so far! w00t! That makes me feel all special! And I just want to say thanks to all my reviewers for their wonderful suggestions! I'm sorry to say I won't be using any of them in this chapter as I wrote this one before I received those suggestions. However, I plan on using some of them in upcoming chapters, so be sure to look out for them!

Chapter 6: Boondoggle Keychains

After having walked all the way back to the house (and just barely managing to escape Pedro's "bodyguards"), Frodo and Sam were busy looking for something to eat. But other than Uncle Rico's steak, which they were told not to touch, they couldn't seem to find anything. They weren't sure if they wanted to touch the steak anyway. It was, after all, unlike anything they'd ever seen in the Shire.

As Frodo tossed the last random item of some sort out of the cabinet, he heard the sounds of munching coming from somewhere. "Sam?" he called. "Sam, is that you?"

Sam's head appeared from out of one of the cabinets above the counter. "Is what me, Mr. Frodo?"

"That munching. Were you just eating something?"

"No, Mr. Frodo, I have found naught in here to eat but crumbs and dirt, I'm afraid."

Then the munching sound came again. "I should like to know where that is coming from," said Frodo, following the sound.

He came around the corner to see Kip sitting in front of the computer, grabbing a handful of cheese-covered chips from a plate and eating them. Sam hopped down from the counter and came to stand behind his master. "Why, Mr. Frodo, I do believe that fellow has some food."

Yes, Kip did indeed have food, thank you Captain Obvious, but unfortunately for you, that was the last of the chips.

"Well, he _had_ food, at any rate, but not anymore," sighed Frodo, turning to walk away. "Come on, Sam."

But Sam ignored his master and strode up to Kip with his hands on his hips and his chin thrust out in indignation. "Excuse me, sir, but I daresay you could have saved some of those chips for us."

Kip stared down at the hobbit and deliberately began to munch on the last chip, pretending to savor it as if it were the most wonderful food in the world. And it was…

…to him anyways.

"Excuse me," said Sam, louder this time, puffing out his chest and trying to look as angry as a cute widdle hobbit could. (The author pictures this in her head and wants to give Sam a huggle! Aww…he's sooo _adoridable_! A/N: "Adoridable" is a word I made up for things that I think are especially cute. Not the "hot" cute, mind you, the "adorable" cute. Erm. Anyways…)

Kip rolled his eyes and looked down at him. "Do you want to fight me?" he asked. "You know, I've been training to be a cage fighter."

"Well, I don't know what that is, sir, but whatever it is, I should warrant that you're not a very good one from the looks of you."

"Try and hit me."

"What?"

"I said come here and see what happens when you try and hit me."

"No, I don't want to do that, sir. I just wanted some food."

"Just do it and find out what happens."

"No."

"Come on."

Then the doorbell rang. "No," said Sam one more time and then turned and went to the door but not before giving Kip a sharp slap on the knee.

"Hi," said Deb as both Frodo and Sam opened the door. "You must be those cousins of Napoleon's he was telling me about."

The hobbits stared at her blankly.

"Well, I came by to see if Kip wanted to buy some stuff from me, but you guys will do." Then she began her totally awesome sales pitch that she was sure would get anyone to buy stuff from her. "Would you like to look like this?" Yes. Genius stuff. She should get herself her own commercial. (Ooh! What an idea! I might have to do that in a later chapter!)

She pulled a picture from out of her pocket, a duplicate portrait of the same fluffy-haired blonde lady that she'd given to Napoleon.

Frodo and Sam took the picture from her and stared at it, trying to make out exactly what it was. "Oh dear!" cried Frodo, dropping the picture in shock. "That's not one of the Sackville-Bagginses is it?"

"Your mom is a Sackville-Baggins," came Kip's voice from somewhere in the house. Wow, that was almost, like, an actual insult this time.

Deb ignored both Kip's and Frodo's comments and continued. "Well, today only, you can get seventy-five percent off of any portrait courtesy Deb's Glamour Shots."

"I'd rather look like an orc than like a Sackville-Baggins," replied Frodo after a moment's silence.

"Hmm…" Deb thought for a moment. "And here we have some boondoggle keychains, a must have for this season's fashion."

The two hobbits peered for a moment at all the colorful lanyard keychains in Deb's case. "No, I'm afraid we shan't be needing any of those," said Sam. "We found lots of those in the house. But do you have any food by any chance?"

"No."

Sam walked back into the house with a glum look on his face. Frodo followed and shut the door behind him, leaving poor Deb standing on the front steps all by herself. And the moral of today's story is: hobbits can be rather rude when hungry, so if you ever see one and he asks for food, you'd better give it to him or he'll shut the door on you.

A/N: Wow, that one actually turned out to be the hardest to write so far. Sorry if it's not quite as entertaining as the others, but don't worry, I've got lots of good ideas to make up for it.

Plus I'm kinda tired now and when that happens, it's hard for me to be as funny. Meh.

Anyways, time for Reviewer Responses! Yay!

Jaina Kenobi: Yet again, you be the first to review my story. But then again, I know that you're constantly sitting in front of your computer, waiting for an Author Alert instead of doing your homework… But we like procrastination, don't we?

Master Arkane: If you think Elrond had a hard time dealing with Napoleon and Pedro, just you wait until they run into Galadriel! Oh, it's going to be so much fun!

Auta Miqula Orqu: Gosh, you're name is hard to spell! Anyway, I agree: insulting people in languages that they don't understand is a lot of fun—especially when you tell them it's a compliment after you've said it!

Navaer Lalaith: Um…okay… I honestly don't really care what's true Elvish and what's not. That sounds mean, but I really don't. And please don't flame my reviewers. It's not needed here, whether you are right or not.

iluvcupid: Well, at least someone loves Cupid. I was beginning to think that no one did and that he was just this matchmaker that never made any matches for himself! Anyway, thanks for the suggestion and I'll see what I can do! Who knows who might show up next…

Nota Lone: I'm not alone either! Yay! And I'm glad that this makes more sense than "Napoleon Dynamite." It's good to know I can take someone else's story and improve it!

willofthering: You've been waiting you're whole life to find this story? Woah! I'm impressed! J/k! But now you've found this story and your quest is at its end. Sort of. Because I haven't finished writing it yet!

Iubar: Well, I'm glad you don't hate it! And you think I'm funnier than Napoleon Dynamite! That makes me very happy and…uh…shoot, what's another word for that? Ecstatic? Yeah, I suppose that works. :)

homeschool girl: Did you build that cake? Can I have some? I really like cake, especially chocolate. Mmm…chocolate…

crybabyfan1: Who co-stars with Johnny Depp in Donnie Brasco? Hmm…I'll have to think about that for a minute…Al Pacino? Am I right? Do I get a cookie?

blackrosemystic: Welcome aboard and yes, sarcasm is fun, but when I use sarcasm, that usually means that I like whatever it is I'm making fun of. Not always, but most of the time! Tee hee!

jae: Believe it or not, I was just kinda typing random things when I came up with that line. I didn't know if it would work, but I suppose it did. Yay!

A/N: Whew! That was a lot of responses this time, but that's okay, because it's just as much fun to write them as it is the story! Well, that's all for today. I haven't really started thinking about what to do with the next chapter yet as I have been swamped with stuff to do lately, but I'm sure I'll come up with something by the end of this week, so stay tuned!


	7. The Ring Goes South

A/N: All you guys have given me fantastic ideas for upcoming chapters, which I _will_ use, I promise. I know exactly where in the story I want to use all of them. I apologize that I didn't use any in this chapter, but I really _really_ promise you that in the next chapter or so, you _will_ see them. For the next Frodo and Sam chapter, for instance, I'm planning on having them either try and shoot a cow or wrangle chickens (thus discovering that they do indeed have large talons XD). So look for your ideas starting in the next few chapters!

Chapter 7: The Ring Goes South…With a…Mariachi Band…

The Company took little gear of war, for their hope was in secrecy not in battle. Aragorn had Andúril but no other weapon, and he went forth clad only in rusty green and brown, as a Ranger of the wilderness. Boromir had a long sword, in fashion like Andúril but of less lineage, and yaddah, yaddah, yaddah. Enough of that. Let's get to the point.

So skipping some paragraphs, we finally get to the part where the Fellowship actually does something besides chatting with the Elves. Not that there's anything wrong with chatting with Elves, mind you. It's just that they like to talk so much and all of Middle-earth is kinda at stake here, so they might want to, you know, get going!

So they did. And Bilbo stood on a balcony and waved goodbye. "Good…good luck!" he cried, stuttering with the cold. " I don't suppose you will be able to keep a diary, Frodo my lad, but I shall expect a full account when you get back. And don't be too long! Farewell!"

Napoleon rolled his eyes. "Ugh! That crazy old hobbit dude is such a flippin' idiot!"

"Do not speak so ill of him," replied Gandalf as they started on their way. "He's a rather old hobbit and a dear friend of mine. I should ask you to hold your tongue if you will not speak good of him."

"Maybe I won't, then. Gosh!"

They crossed the bridge and wound slowly up the long steep paths that led out of the cloven vale of Rivendell. Yay! They're finally leaving! (Author skips for joy around the room and then stops once she realizes her roommate is giving her weird looks.)

Some weeks later, the Fellowship was nearing a mountain range.

"We have done well," said Gandalf. "We have reached the borders of the country that men call Hollin."

"That's cool, I guess," mumbled Pedro.

"Why, what's the matter with you, boy?" wondered Gimli. "This should be a grand thing! Why do you seem so saddened at such a sight?"

Pedro thought for a moment, staring at the ground. "Because we have been walking for days and we haven't had any music," he said at length.

"Well, then let us sing!" said Legolas. And coming from _this _Legolasthe one from the bookthat makes sense because, according to my sources, the Legolas from the movie can't carry a tune at all. Thank goodness they didn't have him sing. His good looks might not have saved him from that humiliation!

"I know a lovely song about the sea."

"Oh, not now, Legolas," said Aragorn. "You know well you don't sing that one until 'The Field of Cormallen,' which is in the sixth book. We're still in the second one. Chapter III: The Ring Goes South, to be exact."

"Oh. Right. My apologies. I do not intend to get ahead of myself."

"So what song would you have us sing?" asked Pippin. "I should like to sing one of our drinking songs, even though we have no drinks."

"No," said Pedro simply. "I want to hear something else."

Both Pippin and Merry looked crestfallen—and they dreaded what his answer would be.

"So what do you wish us to sing?" asked Gandalf.

"I don't want you to sing. I want to you to play. I brought these."

Pedro walked over to Bill and pulled out three trumpets, some maracas, an accordion, and conga drums. He casually handed every member of the Fellowship an instrument. Napoleon got the drums, Gandalf, Aragorn, and Boromir got the trumpets, Legolas got the accordion, and Merry, Pippin, and Gimli got maracas.

"Sweet!" exclaimed Napoleon. "Where did you get these?"

"I brought them," Pedro stated simply.

The rest of the Fellowship looked confused.

"What in the name of Minas Tirith are these things?" cried Boromir. His brain was hurting a lot now. These two strangers would be the death of him if they kept it up.

"They're instruments, you freaking retard!"

Boromir said nothing and just looked really, really angry. His face went scarlet red and the other members of the Fellowship were afraid he was about to light himself on fire.

Gandalf, always the philanthropist, sought to understand what it was Pedro expected them to do. "So what would you have us do with these, my friend?"

"I want to hear some music."

The Fellowship stared expectantly at him, waiting for him to elaborate.

"Well…?" said Merry.

"Play," muttered Pedro.

"Yeah, come on," said Napoleon. "Let's just start playing! Gosh!"

Gandalf, Gimli, Aragorn, Legolas, Merry, Pippin, and even Boromir shrugged and started playing on their instruments. This is the moment they discovered exactly why there weren't a whole lot of instruments in Middle-earth: the sound that they made was so atrocious, it would have sent a balrog running in fear. They stopped after a few scrambled measures.

"How was that?" asked Gandalf, hoping that the horrendous piece they'd just played wasn't what the boy was expecting from them.

"That was awful," said Pedro.

"Man, you guys might have a lot of skills, but you don't have any music skills," Napoleon said.

"Perhaps he should teach us how to play properly," suggested Legolas, squeezing the accordion so that it wheezed one weak note.

So Pedro did.

Five minutes later (because Pedro has some sweet band directing skills), the Fellowship was playing some quality mariachi music. Pedro even pulled out some mariachi band outfits for each of them, complete with sombreros and the Fellowship continued on their merry way towards the Gap of Rohan, scaring off any enemies with their wonderful music. Even the _crebain_ from Fangorn and Dunland dared not go near them. Strange people like that couldn't possibly be carrying a certain Ring with them.

Good thing Elrond and the other elves (well, besides Legolas) couldn't hear this music right now. They might just have all surrendered to Sauron if they did.

So the Fellowship continued to play and play until Pedro would be satisfied, which wouldn't be for a few more days yet. Wha ha ha ha!

A/N: Another chapter done! Sorry that one took so long. Anyway, Reviewer Responses! My favorite part! Wheee!

Master Arkane: Oh that is such a fantastic idea! I just had a wonderful vision in my head :laughs giddily: Oh that's going to make an excellent chapter…

Jaina Kenobi: Geh? You weren't the first to review this time. You're not checking to see if you have Author Alerts frequently enough! Tsk, tsk. And maybe I'll feed those hobbits…eventually. I'm too busy procrastinating, though.

Earendil Eldar: Well, sometime Frodo and Sam are going to have some fun with chickens. Maybe they _do _have large talons! We shall see!

crybabyfan1: Man, you're not going to make this easy on me are you? Let's see, Christopher Walken? Is that it? I have to confess, though. I used the internet to find that one out. Do I get another cookie anyway?

Lady Alyx: Wow, I don't think I've made anyone laugh that hard before! I feel special now! And, um, here's some chocolate. Why? Because I have some and I wanted to give it away. That's why.

jae: Oh, he'll be challenging them to a game of tetherball sometime. Just be patient, you'll see it. Trust me. It's going to be dreadfully hilarious! ;)

homeschool girl: Yeah, stupid darn fly. I don't want a free iPod either. Gosh! I already have like an infinity of those I made at camp. I don't need any more!

ArcticWolfe: Oh, yes, Napoleon's dance moves. Let's see how the cave troll reacts to that in the mines of Moria…

Navaer Lalaith: Apology accepted. And when I find enough time to learn Elvish, I'll be sure to check to see if it's true Elvish or not. For now, though, I gotta stick to my own languages: fé'arish, nyranic, daemoniac, giantean, and acethian. I need to finish developing them for my own novels so it may be awhile before I get around to learning Elvish...

Well, I suppose that is all for now. I think the next chapter will be another Napoleon chapter just to change things up a bit. Stay tuned!  



	8. Pedro Offers You His Protection

A/N: Alrighty, here it is, the next chapter! Sorry that took me so long. What's it been, like, over a week since the last time I updated? Sorry about that, but I was on (in Teen Girl Squad voice) SPRING BREAK! Anyway, now for Chapter 8.

Chapter 8: Pedro Offers You His Protection 

So at one point in the story, Gandalf and Aragorn are debating over where they should go: the mountain pass or Moria. Of course, nobody else heard anything of this until the winter started becoming harsher and Gandalf said, "What do you think of your course now, Aragorn?"

Napoleon, walking not far behind, wearing all nine sombreros that Pedro had brought, heard what the two were saying. "Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh….." he sighed dejectedly. "Don't tell me we're going to the Redhorn Gate."

Startled—more at the fact that someone could sigh for such a long length of time than that Napoleon had spoken—Aragorn whirled round and said, "Well, yes, that is exactly where we are going."

"Can't we go some other way? Gosh!"

"Yeah," Pedro put in. "Like the Gap of Rohan or something."

"No," said Gandalf. "As Aragorn was about to tell me, the Gap of Rohan is a dangerous route. Who knows whether the Horse-lords are for us or for Saruman?"

"Haven't you read the book? Idiot! The guys from Rohan are, like, for us. 'Cept that Théoden is under some sort of spell."

"I do remember that part, yes," said Merry.

"Yes," said Gandalf, "I do indeed remember that part."

"So you would then remember that we end up going through Moria," stated Gimli hopefully. The little dude really, really wanted to go visit his cousin. He had skipped over the part, though, when they found out that Moria had been taken. That's what you get for not sticking through it the whole way, duh.

"Yes," sighed Gandalf, starting to go out of character a bit as all characters are wont to do in these silly fanfics. "I do not much like those mines, though, and I'd rather us go to the Redhorn Gate."

"The Mines of Moria it is, then!" Gimli cried. "Let us go!"

* * *

Far away standing on top of the tower of Orthanc was Saruman. He searched the mountain of Caradhras with his mind for the Nine, but did not see them there. He quickly pulled out a copy of _The Fellowship of the Ring_ from somewhere in his robes and skimmed through Chapter III of the second book. He found the part where he gets to send a nasty snowstorm that buries the Fellowship in an avalanche. "Heh," he said to himself, also going out of character. Dang it! Stay in character, will you? "I like that part. It makes me feel all powerful. But according to this, they should be here by now? Where in Middle-earth did they go off to?" 

He skimmed a bit ahead and found his answer. "Ah, yes, they go to Moria when they can't go any further upon the mountain. But why are they skipping that part? Who decided to skip a good few pages of the book?"

Who indeed? 'Twas the evil workings of a guy from Idaho, yes it was.

"Well, drat it all, then," Saruman muttered to himself and sat down sulking.

* * *

So now. Skipping some stuff because if I don't then this will be way way too long, we find ourselves following the Fellowship into the mines right before the Watcher in the lake sneaks up on them. 

"How did you know the password?" Gandalf asked Napoleon.

"Ugh! I already told you, I read the book!"

"Oh, right, I forgot."

Then: from out of the water, a long sinuous tentacle crawled. Then suddenly, it stopped as if in horror. Below the waters, the Watcher saw a strange figure wearing nine sombreros and quickly swam away. Whosoever could wear that many pointed hats—in so many colors, too—had to be a powerful Maia of some sort indeed.

Then there's some more stuff about wandering through the dark, how Gandalf never told Bilbo that the mithril shirt was worth a whole lot, and how the hobbits wanted a smoke because they haven't tasted it in so long. Finally, we come to the part where they enter Balin's tomb and Gimli discovers that all the dwarves that had been living in Moria were now dead. It made him very sad and then Aragorn scolded him for not reading the whole book.

Gimli was very very sad.

Then some pages later, Gandalf finds the book, the one that the dwarves had been writing in before their mines got taken. After he had finished, the Company heard the sounds of a drumbeat, as if from a war drum.

"They are coming!" said Legolas, always good at being Captain Obvious.

"We cannot get out," said Gimli, always good at being…uh…Gimli.

"Don't worry," Napoleon said. "Pedro offers you his protection."

Pedro nodded halfheartedly.

"I had feared as much," said Boromir.

Moments later, after the whole bit with the glowing sword, the doors opened and the orcs came spilling in, along with their lovely cave troll.

Napoleon jumped up onto the top of Balin's tomb, his back facing the enemy. "Oh what in the name of the Brandywine does he think he's doing?" Pippin wondered, trying not to be afraid.

Then, from out of nowhere some music started—not the kind of music that is usually played in Middle-earth and not even Pedro's mariachi band music, but good ol' fashioned eighties dance music.

The orcs and the troll stopped suddenly, fearing that this was some new, strange, and powerful sorcery.

Then Naploleon started dancing. He moon walked, he kinda discoed, he made up some new moves along the way.

The orcs and their pet just stared at him and then got the bright idea to run away before he finished his dance of death. Which of them wanted to stay behind and find out what happened after he was through? None of them, obviously.

Then the music suddenly stopped and Napoleon was left there, dancing to the music in his head.

"Should we tell him he can stop now?" wondered Pippin.

"Let's just leave him, that's what I say," said Boromir.

But just as he started to leave, Napoleon stopped and jumped down from the slap atop the tomb.

"Hey, Pedro, I told you it would work," he said.

"Yeah," muttered Pedro. "It worked really well."

Boromir, and many of the others, stood there and gaped. What new things would this strange kid from Idaho think of next?

* * *

A/N: Yes! Another one done! And now for my flavorite part. That's right, you guessed it, Reader Responses! 

crybabyfan1: Oh! I _so_ know this one cuz I've seen that movie, like, an infinity amount of times. It's Winona Ryder!

jae: Yes, I am crazy. It is why I write this fic. And that's a wonderful idea! I'll have to figure out how to do that. Hehe, building a cake for Aragorn. Yes, it's genius!

Countess Jackman: Ah, gracias, mon ami. Yay! Random Spanish and French! I'll call it "Franish" or "Spanch" or…"Squog" because that's a funny word.

KaliedescopeCat: It doesn't work? Oh well. Hee hee. I just had a vision of Frodo getting beaned in the head with a steak…

Jaina Kenobi: But that's still not any excuse not to be the first to review! J/K! That's awesome! So are ya going to get to meet him soon?

Master Akane: Heh, yeah. I like the idea of him wearing a hot pink one with all the gold threading on it. He could be "Gandalf the Hot Pink."

ArcticWolfe: Well, I'm sorry the troll didn't join in with Napoleon on the dancing, but I think he was too intimidated. When he saw Napoleon's sweet moves, he knew there was no way he could possibly beat that.

blackrosemystic: Yessss! I love making people fall out of their chairs in mirth! Wha ha ha ha! And thank you for the you-go dance:does a you-go-do-that-you-go-dance dance:

Mystical Full Moon Maiden: Oh, you changed your name! I like! Yes, I could just see the Eye winking out and the tower of Barad-dûr crashing down just because it couldn't take it any more.

Trisher Nicole: Wow! You sound like a really hyper person! Why is it funny? I dunno, cuz it is…I guess.

Lady Rumbottom: Napoleon Dynamite is both stupid and ingenious: it's so stupid that it's ingenious. That's why I love it. Just like Monty Python. And don't worship me, worship the One whom I serve. You can still tell me how awesome you think this fic is, though!

The Hobbit Lass: Wow, my fic must be pages from the first one and you still found it. I'm astonished. And you found it today, nonetheless, right before I posted this new chapter. Now I'm really astonished.

writerauthorguy: Geez, you and Hobbit Lass posted those reviews right when I was posting this new chapter. Anymore of that and I'm probably going to miss some people and then they will be sad that I didn't reply to them. So if I don't continue, what're you going to do? Oh dear. Not the monkeys! Please, not the monkeys!

Alrighty, then. The next chapter will feature once again Frodo and Sam in Idaho. Right now I have great image of them trying to shoot at cows with a rifle. Old, sick and dying cows, I mean, not perfectly good ones because that wouldn't be very nice, now would it?


	9. What Do You Suppose This Thing Is?

A/N: Sorry I keep taking so long to update. I'm a bad person. Bad:slaps self: Okay, I'll really really try to update faster. And I forgot to say this last time and I'm so sorry, but you can all thank ArcticWolfe for the idea for the last chapter. Having Napoleon dance for the orcs and the troll was lots of fun. I might put some more of it in later…hee hee…

So now, the next chapter:

Chapter 9: Gee, Mr Frodo, What Do You Suppose This Thing Is?

Today was Wednesday, the fifth or so day that Frodo and Sam had been stuck in this miserable place called "Idaho." (A/N: I don't mean to offend any Idahoans by that comment, what I mean is that it's miserable to Frodo and Sam seeing as they've been having a bad experience with it so far).

Anyway, how many days they were there doesn't really matter, now does it? They're just there, okay? Who freaking cares how long they were there for, huh? Nobody! And that's why I'm not going to continue talking about it.

So. The two hobbits were really bored and were wandering Napoleon's small hometown when they found themselves at the door of an old run-down shack. "I wonder, Sam, what they have got in here," said Frodo.

"Let's find out, Mr. Frodo. It's a lot better than being pestered by that Mr. Rico."

Yes, yes it is. Nobody likes having to watch those horrendous football tapes of him. I mean, who in their right mind would want to watch some guy throwing a football at a camera again and again and again…? Well, Kip obviously, but Kip isn't the brightest crayon in the box now is he? Nor is he the sharpest tack or the brightest light bulb or…(author continues listing).

So Frodo grabbed the rusty handle of the shack and slowly pulled open the rotting door. What the two hobbits saw inside was the most amazing thing they'd ever seen: two long, black, shiny tubes attached to some sort of a wooden handle with a trigger. That's right, a rifle.

They walked slowly towards it, mouths both hung open in awe, not exactly sure why they thought this thing was so wonderful to behold other than the fact that it was really really shiny—kinda like the Ring. You know, hobbits seem to have a penchant for shiny things, now that I think about it. But then again, I suppose everyone likes shiny things, am I right? Speaking of which, I just noticed the neck of my desk lamp is so…shiny…

Oh. What? Sorry. Got distracted by shinyness. Okay, where were we? Ah yes…

"What do you suppose this thing is, Mr. Frodo?" asked Sam as he picked up the rifle. But then he instantly let it fall because the poor dear had no idea how heavy it was. Fortunately, this did not set it off or Mr. Frodo would have been toast.

Frodo picked it up (with some effort, of course) and looked at it. "I don't know, but it is a strange object, isn't it? What say we take it outside where we can get a better look at it?"

Sam agreed and the two went out of the shack. Frodo inspected the trigger. "I wonder, do you suppose this thing does something?" He pulled the trigger and the rifle went off, sending a bullet into—not SAM!

Ha! Just kidding. I got you, didn't I? Don't worry, the bullet flew harmlessly away—until it hit a passing bird. Whoops.

"I daresay, Mr. Frodo, I think it's naught more than a noisemaker, like one of Gandalf's fireworks."

Huh. I suppose you could say that, but…

"Well, if it shoots fireworks, then let's have some fun, shall we?"

But before they could do anything, the crusty old guy who owned the rifle stepped out of his house and said, "Hey, you kids! What do you think you're doing with my rifle?"

"We were going to shoot off some fireworks with it, if you do not mind," Sam said very stoutly. You tell 'im, Sam!

The old man stared at them for a moment, chewing on some tobacco. (Surgeon General's Warning: Tobacco may be harmful to your health. Use at your own risk.) He looked like he was chewing on some cud. "It's doesn't shoot fireworks, boy," he said finally.

"Then what does it do?"

"What sort of game are you two kids playing? Nevermind. I can't hold that gun anymore. My arthritis has been actin' up real bad lately, so I've got something I want you to do for me."

The two hobbits tilted their heads in question.

"There's an old cow I need ya to take care of. Just point the gun at 'er head and shoot. Got that?"

(Gasp! What? This old man's seriously going to let two "kids" use his gun! You bad, bad old man! Shame on you!)

The two hobbits nodded and the old man walked away. "Now which cow is he talking about?" wondered Frodo. I don't think he realizes what happens when you shoot a gun at a living thing. Well, he'll find out, I suppose.

"That one, Mr. Frodo?" said Sam, pointing to a bone-thin cow not too far beyond them.

"I suppose."

Frodo lifted up the gun and struggled to aim it at the cow, but it was so heavy for him, the end of it kept moving all over the place. When he thought he had it on the cow, he pulled the trigger…

…and he and Sam fell over backwards from the blast, stiff as two wooden boards.

"Did we get him?" wondered Sam as they lay there on their backs. The cow mooed.

"I'm afraid not," Frodo answered, getting back up. "We've got to try that again."

So he aimed at the cow once more and pulled the trigger…but he was out of bullets. "Oh…I think we've broken it," he said, pulling the ends of the barrel towards his face. Oh dear, I sure hope he's right. And well, actually I know he is because that particular gun he had can only shoot two rounds before it needs to be reloaded. Too bad, Frodo, looks like your fun is at its end for today—and so is mine.

TBC

A/N: Ha, I had so much fun writing this one, you have no idea. And I'd like to thank Master Akane for the idea for this one. Next chapter, I will be trying to figure out how in the world Napoleon and Pedro are going to deal with the whole Balrog thing. That should be quite interesting. I don't have any really good ideas right now, so if any of you do, then feel free to give them to me.

So, once again, Reviewer Responses:

Jaina Kenobi: You reviewed first this time! Yay! You're finally checking your Author Alert thing in your email when you're supposed to! And, no, I don't think there was any Spaceballs reference in the last chapter. I thought I came up with that idea myself. Huh…

KaliedescopeCat: Woah, and exploding orc? That would be flippin' sweet, I tell you. And so would Teen Girl Squad in Middle-earth. I could see it now: Frodo gets attacked by Gollum and it says: "Gollum'd!"

Snodgrass Winkle: You're Sondgrass _and _Winkle now? When did that happen? No, seriously, I'm thrilled to hear that I made your lips hurt, or, as my sister and I used to say, made your smile hurt.

The Hobbit Lass: Sadly, yes, I already had my Spring Break and I wish that it had come later instead of sooner. But that's okay, cuz my last day of school is May 11th and then I will have time to update like everyday! W00t!

Mystical Full Moon Maiden: I wasn't as funny this time:sad face: Oh well, it happens to the best of us, I suppose. I hope this chappie was better.

jae: Ha, that would be funny, but I think they would have a hard time getting the car through the time machine. Besides, I'm not quite sure, but if what I know about time machines is correct, then the one that Napoleon has only has enough power to transport something with the max mass of one person. That rules cars out, but Pedro's cousins could come.

crybabyfan1: No more trivia? Oh no! Wait, I think I've got one: Johnny Depp plays Willy Wonka in the new Charlie and the Chocolate Factory movie, but who originally played Willy Wonka in the 1971 version?

A/N: Yikes! Not as many reviewers this time. Does that mean everyone's on Spring Break? Oh well—ya win some, ya lose some and that's just the way things go (:singing: in Albuquerque, right Jaina?)

And if anyone reviewed this chapter and don't see a response here, I probably didn't get it. My email's been weird lately and is not notifying me of these things. And if you have sent a review, it might not have shown up on yet, at least on my computer.


	10. Do the Balrogs Have Large Talons?

A/N: Alrighty, I think I've finally figured out what to do with the Balrog scene. (Thanks Master Akane, all I needed was the talons and numchucks). Plus I borrowed a line from Jaina (sorry, Jaina, couldn't resist). To everyone else who's suggested stuff: don't worry! I'll be using more of your ideas really soon, so if you're mad at me because I haven't, don't be, because I promise I will use them! I even wrote all them down and have figured out where to put them in the story. So just be patient, you'll see them.

Anyway…

Chapter 10: Do The Balrogs Have Large Talons?

"Ai! ai!" wailed Legolas. Ha! That's a great mental picture. Legolas wailing. Hehe. He _is_ a pansy. "A Balrog! A Balrog is come!"

Gimli stared with wide eyes. "Durin's Bane!" he cried, and letting his axe fall, he covered his face.

Good job Gimli. I suppose the thought there was: "If I can't see him, he can't see me!" Yeah, real smart.

"A Balrog," muttered Gandalf. Uh, yeah, I think we've established that like twice already. "What an evil fortune and I am already weary!"

And then, the most dreadful thing happened: the Balrog appeared.

"This is a foe beyond any of you!" said Gandalf. "Fly!"

As they ran, Napoleon asked, "Do the Balrogs have large talons?"

"What?"

"The Balrogs. Do they have large talons?"

"I'm afraid I don't quite understand what you're trying to say, boy. As for the Balrog itself, whether or not it has large talons does not matter, you could not hope to defeat it."

"Not like I was going to! Gosh! I just wanted to know if it had large talons."

At last, the Company reached the bridge and ran across. It was a narrow bridge too. "Hey, Aragorn," said the author, writing herself randomly into the story. "Don't fall off!"

"Where did—" And Aragorn fell flat on his face and got back up again, the author having a good laugh at it. Then just as quickly as she had come, she disappeared and continued to type up the rest of this chapter.

Aragorn got back up, looking around for the evil, mean college student that almost made him fall off the bridge to an untimely death. Upon seeing that she was not there, however, and upon seeing that the Balrog was getting really _really_ close, he decided to give it up and run.

Once they reached the other side, the Fellowship stopped and turned to see Gandalf standing in the middle of the bridge doing his "You cannot pass!" thing, with the Balrog on the other side.

"He cannot stand alone!" Aragorn cried suddenly and was about to run off onto the bridge when:

"Of course he can! Flippin' retard! He, like, was one of the wizards that protected Nessie from being blown out of the water. He can stop that thing! Right, Pedro?"

Pedro nodded, looking down at the ground as he always did (is there…something interesting on the ground? I mean, seriously, why does the kid always have to look at the ground?) and nodded.

Sure enough, a moment later, the fires went out, and blank darkness fell. Gandalf had disappeared with it. The balrog. Not…the darkness. That wouldn't make any sense to say he disappeared with the darkness. I mean, come on.

The Company stood staring fixedly at it in horror (the pit, not the Balrog—he already disappeared) —except for Napoleon and Pedro.

"What are you guys all so surprised about? He was just some old dude. Besides, he comes back later, I think," said Napoleon.

Aragorn twitched at what he'd just heard. _Must…defend…Gandalf…_ Twitchthwitchtwitch. "Just 'some old dude?'" he fumed, going terribly out of character. I always hate it when that happens. But a strange kid from Idaho like dear old Napoleon would do that to you. Yup.

"Gandalf is one of the greatest to ever walk the earth! You cannot call him 'some old dude!'" A huge vein started throbbing on his (Aragorn's, not Napoleon's—why do I have to keep explaining these things?) forehead and it looked like one of his eyes was starting to bulge out. You know, he was starting to become more and more like Boromir. Then again, everybody is like everyone else in the books. How do you tell them apart? I don't know! I don't know!

Now my head's starting to hurt.

"I hate to tell, you Aragorn," said Gimli, "but he's right, he does come back later so hold in your wrath and save it for the orcs."

Speaking of which, they're coming and you people might wanna get out of there.

"The orcs are coming! Let's get out of here!" cried Legolas. Thanks again, Captain Obvious. I just said that.

When Napoleon saw the orcs, he said, "That's a butt-load of orcs. It's too bad that wizard guy didn't leave his stick. I'm pretty good with the bo staff, you know." Man, this guy likes to use the same lines over and over again. Doesn't he know how to say anything else?

"That matters not! Come, let us get out of here ere they catch us!" cried Aragorn.

Napoleon turned to run and almost tripped over one of the hobbits. "Why don't you get out of the way, you flippin' retard!"

Seeing the disgruntled look on Pippin's face, Pedro actually managed to crack a smile—as they all fled, of course.

TBC…

A/N: Yeah, I know, that was an abrupt way to end it, but I…I dunno.

You know, it's a whole lot easier to write the Frodo and Sam chapters. Anyway…

Jaina Kenobi: Yay! You were the first to review again! Now keep this up, and I'll give you…ten points for every time you're first.

The Hobbit Lass: I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long for this chappie. I've been gettin' behind on my posting of new ones lately…

Nolitari: Don't worry I'd never hurt Frodo! He's my favorite character! I almost cried during ROTK when he and Sam were at Mount Doom and when the cave troll stabbed him in FOTR (I thought he was dead at that point TT).

crybabyfan1: Aughh! I just watched that movie, too and I don't remember! Grr…Was his costar the black guy? I don't know any of their names…(besides him).

jae:gasp: I wouldn't want to scar poor Sam and Frodo for life! I loves them! I can, however, have them deflate Uncle Rico's football. Mwa ha ha ha ha!

Master Akane: Yeah, Frodo and Sam with guns. When I was writing that chapter, I had to try and stop myself from cracking up as I pictured it in my head.

Mizamour: Welcome aboard! You flatter me with all your praise for this story. Now I'm afraid people are going to expect nothing less than perfection from now on. Oh boy. This could get quite difficult…

Starsinmypocket: I made you babble insanely? Ha ha! Yes! I don't think I've ever made somebody do that before. That's awesome! I hope it wasn't permanent. I could just imagine the look on people's faces while you babble insanely in front of them…


	11. Ready for Some Chicken Wranglin?

A/N: Okay, I've still got tons of reviewer ideas to get through, but I will get through them all eventually. Most of them are for the Napoleon and Pedro chapters, so many of the Frodo and Sam chapters will be my own ideas. Except for this one. This next chapter was inspired by two people, actually: homeschool girl and Earendil Eldar. They both asked the question: do the chickens have large talons? Frodo and Sam are about to find out. Mwa ha ha ha ha!

Chapter 11: Ready for Some Chicken Wranglin'? Yeehaw!

"What should we do now, Mr. Frodo?"

"I don't know. What do you want to do?"

"I don't know. What do you want to do?"

"I don't know…"

And the two hobbits continued on doing this for three hours. It was the only way they could entertain themselves. Hey, there's not much for a hobbit to do in Napoleon's place now is there? They can't very well go down to the _Green Dragon_ to share a few ales and sing a few songs, now can they? They tried going to the local bar earlier, but the bouncer threw them out, outraged that two kids were seriously trying to get into a bar.

"…do you want to do?"

Still going at it, eh? They must be bored. But wait! What's that I hear? Why, it's old Farmer Joe comin' down the road. Now say it with me, everyone: "Hi, Farmer Joe!"

Farmer Joe smiles back and waves. The author slaps herself for switching tenses in the middle of the story. Ow.

Frodo and Sam sat up. "Tom Bombadil?" they both wondered. Then Frodo muttered as an aside, "Oh dear, I should hope not. That man and his songs scared me. I think I found the barrow-wight to be better company."

Yeah. Ol' Bombadil scared me somewhat too. What a strange person he was. He even ransacked Lassie's house, right Jaina? (_Mystery Science Theater_ reference for any of you who are wondering).

"Tom who?" said Farmer Joe.

"Bombadil," said Frodo. "Do you know him?"

" 'fraid not, son. My name's Farmer Joe."

Yep. That's his real name, folks. Not just "Joe," _Farmer_ Joe.

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Farmer Joe," said Sam. What is this penchant he has for calling everyone Mr.? Does he do that to women too? "Good evening, Mr. Galadriel." Oh, she'd slap him for that one.

"Pleased to meet you, too, lad. Now what's your name?"

"I am Samwise Gamgee and this is Mr. Frodo Baggins."

"Nice to meet the both of you. Now I was wonderin'…I need some help with my chickens. Would you like to help me?"

Frodo sighed. "We've already helped another man today. We did not do such a good job and I should think that we would not be much help to you."

Suddenly, Farmer Joe's bright and cheery face contorted into a face of…of…evil meanness. "Tough, son. You're going to come with me and help, whether you want to or not," growled Farmer Joe, randomly being really evil. Never trust a man with an innocent name like his. You never know what they're going to do. They could make you go wrangle chickens for them. Shudder.

Farmer Meanie Head grabbed Frodo and Sam by the arms, hogtied them—because he felt like it, and dragged them all the way back to his farm.

* * *

"You ready to wrangle some chickens?" asked Farmer Joe, glaring at the two hogtied hobbits.

"Do we have any other choice?" said Frodo.

"Nope. Okay, so what I need y'all to do is…see those chickens in there?"

The two hobbits looked inside the coop and nodded.

"I need you to catch 'em all, and put them back in their cages. Got that?"

"Yessir," the hobbits mumbled.

"Alright then. Here we go."

Farmer Joe leaned over and untied the hobbits and threw them into the coop by their breeches, shutting and locking the door behind him.

"Another fine pickle we've landed ourselves in Mr. Frodo."

Well, here in Napoleon's world, you're bound to land yourselves in a lot of fine, juicy, crunchy, and savory pickles, but I think you would have found the pickle you would have been in back home would have been much more unpleasant. Ignorance is bliss, though, right? Maybe not. Oh well.

"Indeed, Sam. Let's just get to work, I suppose."

Frodo walked up to the first chicken and reached out to grab it, but it immediately started clucking wildly at him and flapping its wings in his face. Seems like chickens aren't too fond of hobbits. This should get interesting.

"Come here, you accursed bird," Frodo snarled, trying desperately to grab the wild beast.

The chicken just totally flipped out on him and started attacking him with its—you guessed it—very large talons. You didn't know that chickens even had talons, now did you? Neither did Frodo and _he_ had to find out the hard way.

Frodo and the chicken thrashed about on the floor, both of them going at it, trying to go for the jugular. This was one vicious fight, I'm telling you. Sam stood off some distance and watched in horror. A chicken brushed past his leg and clucked non-threateningly. Sam shrieked, fearing that he'd end up in a tangle of talons, feathers, and hairy hobbit feet, just like his master. He started to run the other way, but ran into another chicken, then another and another. "Mr. Frodo! The chickens are attacking!"

That might have been a legitimate warning, but the chickens were doing no such thing, save the one trying to peck at Frodo's face. The rest of them just walked about, bobbing their heads forward and back, being very stupid as they are wont to do. Sam ran about in a mad panic, nonetheless.

Finally, Frodo managed to get hold of the psychotic chicken, pinned down its wings and threw it into a cage. He slammed the door shut and locked it, breathing hard. His cute little hobbit clothes were all tore now and hung off him in tattered shreds. He had a wild look on his face and in his eyes. He was in psycho-Frodo mode now. Sam didn't think it was possible that his master could behave in such a way, but then again, he did not realize that this was a fanfic and that in such stories, the main characters are nearly always inclined to go wildly out of character at some point or other.

With a loud war cry, Frodo leaped into the midst of the chickens and started throwing them into their cages left and right. There was no way he was going to let them attack him with their large talons now.

Ten seconds later, because he's talented like that, Frodo had managed to get all the chickens into a cage.

Sam stared at him with his jaw to the floor. He couldn't find any words. In fact, he was a bit frightened of his master now.

Then not-as-nice-as-his-name-suggests Farmer Joe came in. "Have you boys—I'll be darned. I didn't think ya'd be able to do it."

"Well, it seems we have accomplished the task that we had come here for, so I daresay we shall be leaving now," said Frodo, going back to his usual self—to the relief of Sam, who was afraid for a moment that his friend had lost it. That would have been traumatic for him, wouldn't it?

"Um…well, alright then, I suppose," replied Farmer Joe.

The two hobbits walked out of the coop and went on their way once more, leaving Farmer Joe completely dumbstruck.

TBC…

A/N: Hope you all liked that one. Next chapter, we will be seeing Napoleon and Pedro in Lothlórien and let me tell you, they're going to have a field day with the elves. :evil laugh:

Master Akane: I had no idea you liked Pippin so much. In that case, I think I might put some more of him in the story. I _was_ kinda neglecting him, wasn't I? Bad me!

Jaina: Aww…you weren't the first to review that time. No points for you. :sad face: Maybe next time, eh?

fiji-mermaid: I like your penname. It's awesome. I don't know what it is with college students and Napoleon Dynamite, but he does seem popular amongst us. In fact, the guys floor below mine has Napoleon Dynamite as their theme in their hall.

KaliedescopeCat: I know, isn't it? Ha ha, I could just imagine what Tolkien would do if he read that…

crybabyfan1: I like randomly inserting random people into my fics, and when it's a parody fic like this one, I can get as weird as I want. It's fun like that.

Starsinmypocket: Still babbling insanely, eh? I bet that's caused lots of confusion when you try to talk to people. I hope you're still laughing at random intervals after this chappie, too.

The Hobbit Lass: Yes, dear Leggie is somewhat of a pansy isn't he? I mean, look at him! He wears tights for crying out loud! (Legolas: They're not tights, they're leggings. We've been over this. Me: Yeah, sure…whatever you say, Legolas…:whispers: They're tights. Legolas: I heard that!)

Reggie Tuesday: I KNOW! The horror of those people who only saw the movies. They make me angry! They don't know what they're missing by not having read the books!

jae: Yep. I mean, everyone knows that Gandalf protected Nessie. Therefore, he can probably do whatever he wants, right?


	12. Tetherwhat?

A/N: Sorry this has taken me so long to update, but my computer was being stupid and wouldn't let me into my documents. Grr…

But it's okay now because I'm on another computer writing this. Anyway, this chapter is based on an idea from jae: Napoleon challenging the elves to a game of tetherball.

Chapter 12: Tether…what?

"Do you hear the voice of Nimrodel?" asked Legolas. "I will sing you a song of the maiden Nimrodel, who bore the same name as the stream beside which she lived long ago." In a soft voice hardly to be heard amid the rustle of the leaves above them, he began:

_An Elven-maid there was of old;_

_A shining star b—_

A random flying orange came from nowhere and hit Legolas in the face.

"No more singing! Flippin' retard!" yelled Napoleon. "You've been singing songs ever since we started on this trip. Shut up!"

Legolas looked flustered and highly offended.

Pippin sat sniggering quietly behind him. Aragorn whacked him on the head. "Now that is not very polite, Master Pippin."

"But it's true! Legolas never stops singing! I think he deserved that fruit in the face."

As do I, dear Pippin. As do I. I mean, someone's always singing in this story, but especially Legolas. If they're going to sing, he should at least let the others have a turn every once in awhile.

"Where in the Valar did you get this from?" asked Legolas furiously, picking up the orange.

Napoleon sighed and replied matter-of-factly, "I have a Deus Ex Machina device. It's a flippin' sweet thing to have."

"You have a…a what?" asked Boromir who was so red in the face by now that he looked as if he would spontaneously combust at any minute. This strange boy's antics never cease do they? Do they?

"A Deus Ex Machina device. I can pretty much pull anything out of thin air that I want with it."

"But…but that's not possible! I don't…I mean…ugh! I'm not even going to bother anymore," said Boromir, and he walked off into the forest.

"_Daro!_" a voice said from somewhere in the trees. Everyone froze and they could hear whisperings in the Elven tongue.

"What are they saying?" asked Pedro, looking like he actually didn't care all that much…as usual. What's it take to get this kid excited? Hmm…I wonder. Oh, I know! Let's see what happens when he hears the funniest joke in the world. You know, that one from a Monty Python episode that made everyone who heard it die from laughter? That ought to at least make him crack a smile.

"Ai! Where did he come from?" shrieked Legolas as a comedian solidified from nothing.

"It wasn't me," said Napoleon.

The random comedian walked up to Pedro and whispered the joke in his ear. Pedro didn't even so much as flinch. Curses! Foiled again!

Then the comedian vanished as the author decided that he wasn't of much use anymore.

"That was…odd," said Pippin, not really knowing what to make of the whole situation.

"At any rate, I think we should be getting back to the story," Aragorn replied.

"Right," said Legolas. "What was my line again?"

Merry whispered, " '…and they say you breathe so loud, they could shoot you in the dark.'"

"Oh, I remember. That was what I was supposed to say, only now they are saying, 'That odd-looking chap with the curly hair is so unfit to walk in the forests of Lórien, that they're surprised the trees haven't withered and died yet."

"Ouch," said Napoleon. "I was just dissed by elves."

Then Haldir climbed down from one of the ladders set against a tree. "I would welcome you, but that one of your company were not so ill-fitted to walk in our lands."

"I think he just dissed you again, Napoleon," muttered Pedro. Wow. He can actually interpret that? Dude…you learn something new everyday.

"I see there are two here that would not be welcome in our lands, and I do not mean the Dwarf is one of them. For even he is more fit to enter Lórien than those two."

"I think he just insulted you, too, Pedro!" said Pippin with a gleeful smile.

"None of you shall enter in those woods as long as those two accompany you," said Haldir.

"But we need to see Galadriel!" Pippin protested. "That's how Tolkien wrote the book! You cannot ruin it on account of those two!"

"They shall not enter here," answered Haldir, unmoved. Stubborn little git, ain't he?

But then Napoleon had a brilliant idea. Wait…what was that? Napoleon has a brilliant idea? I don't believe it! But I might be jumping to conclusions. Let's see what he has to say.

"How about we have a challenge? If we win, you let us in. If we lose, we'll find another way."

Haldir thought for a moment. "Fair enough," he said finally. He was completely confident that any challenge the boy could come up with the elves could easily beat him at. "What is the challenge you have in mind."

Napoleon used his spiffy Deus Ex Machina device that the author had so graciously given to him to pull a rope and a hard, yellow ball out of nowhere. He then went over to a near tree and tied the end of the rope to it. "Play me?" he asked.

Haldir scoffed, "I should think not! What sort of challenge is this?"

"Haven't you ever heard of tetherball? Gosh!"

"Tether…what?"

"Tetherball," said Pedro. "It's like his favorite game."

"It's not that hard, either. All you have to do is wrap the ball around the tree," Napoleon put in.

Haldir actually laughed. "Well, in that case…"

"…in that case what do you have?" said a disembodied voice, also known as the author's voice as she quoted a Weird Al song. "Sorry. Every time someone says that, I have to quote that. Please continue."

"That was strange," said Pippin. Ah, well, strange things are bound to happen when the author of a story is at liberty to say anything she dang well pleases. I'm afraid you'll be witnessing a lot more of it, dear Pip.

Haldir glanced up towards the sky, trying to determine where the voice had come from, but then decided it best to just let the thing go. "In that case…I will take you up on this challenge."

"Sweet!" said Napoleon and the elf came over and started playing tetherball with him.

In a matter of seconds, Napoleon had managed to wrap the ball around the tree before Haldir even had a good swing at it. "I win!" exclaimed Napoleon. "Now you have to let us in."

Haldir frowned. "Alright," he said reluctantly. "Follow me." Then as an aside he muttered, "Galadriel shall have my head for this…"

TBC…

A/N: Yay! Another chappy finished! Again, sorry that took so long. Computer problems, you know, but they were actually a result of me messing around on the internet while I was trying to update my system, which I have now learned is something that you're not supposed to do. Anywho, reviewer response time.

Jaina Kenobi: You were first to review this time! W00t! Here's ten points.

Earendil Eldar: I haven't seen that one yet, but I'll have to sometime, eh? Have you seen the "Eegah" one? I haven't seen that one either, but I hear that one's the funniest.

KaliedescopeCat: Ooh…Frodo and Sam lost in the bowels of a high school, forced to fight off any of the jocks, cheerleaders, nerds, and all other sorts of teenage stereotypes. Hmm…

jae: Sooo…is that a good thing or a bad thing that that was stuck in your head all day? I'm so confused!

Mizamour: Thank you for all those compliments. You flatter me. Just for that, here's a homemade cookie. holds out

The Hobbit Lass: Ouch! That must have been painful. I could only imagine. If they pop out of your head, please don't sue me. I don't have any money to begin with...

Master Akane: Yes, I have definitely taken into consideration adding a bit more of Pippin in the story as you may have noticed from this chapter. I'll try to put in more of him in later chapters.

Wilwarin: I'm glad you enjoy this story. You know what I love most about writing it? I get to make all the characters go as far out of character as I want! It freaking rocks!

Reggie Tuesday: I know, I know. Legolas is a hot pansy, but I'm more of a Frodo girl meself. So I apologize beforehand if I make too much fun of Legolas.

fiji-mermaid: I'm still loving that name of yours. Anyway, I must say I'm glad to help you procrastinate anytime just as long as you do eventually get your homework done. Right?


	13. A Chapter Title Without a Question Mark

A/N: Guess what? I'm updating early this time to make up for updating so late last time. Plus, I'm really bored right now and what better thing to do than update this fic? Anyway, this chappy was inspired by KaleidescopeCat.

Chapter 13: School Time For Hobbits

Frodo lay on the couch at what had apparently become Uncle Rico's house. I mean, Napoleon's grandma was always off trying new things that could get her killed and Napoleon certainly wasn't there. Kip hardly cared whose house it was as long as he wasn't the one paying for it. So that made it Uncle Rico's house for the moment. And the couch was then, obviously, Uncle Rico's couch, but Frodo could care less as long as he could rest on it.

"One…two…three…four…five…"

"Sam?"

"…six…seven…eight…"

"Sam."

"…nine…ten…eleven…"

"SAM!"

"…twelve—Oh, sorry, Mr. Frodo. What is it?"

"What are you doing?"

"Why, counting the dots on the ceiling, of course."

Wow, even hobbits count things on the ceiling when they're bored? I wonder if that has a profound meaning…okay, it doesn't. I'm just looking too far into it again. Stupid English classes.

"Ahem! Aren't you supposed to be telling the story here?"

Oh. Right. Many apologies, Sam. Please continue.

"Right. Now where were we?" Sam coughed. "Ah, yes: Why, counting the dots on the ceiling, of course."

Frodo said nothing for a moment and then answered, "Well, I suppose we've got nothing better to do. How about I work on that half of the ceiling and you work on the other. Then we'll add up what each of us got."

"Alright, Mr. Frodo."

"One…two…three…"

Then an hour later:

"Eleventy one…eleventy two…"

"Just what do you kids think you're doing?" asked Uncle Rico as he came into the room, gnawing on a piece of steak.

"Counting the ceiling tiles, Mr. Uncle Rico."

"Well, you're obviously not doing a good job of that."

Frodo looked insulted. How dare a steak-gnawing, football-throwing, lazy bum tell him that he didn't know how to count! "What do you mean, we're 'obviously not doing a good job of it?'"

"Yeah," Sam snorted, puffing out his chest, putting little hands on his hips. Aww…he's so cute when he does that!

"Uh-oh. Not again…" Frodo muttered.

I just have to glomp him!

GLOMP!

"Um…excuse me Mr. Author."

First of all, I'm NOT A MR! I'M A MS! Second of all, WHAT?

"The story?"

Oh…yeah…

Uncle Rico chewed on his steak, looking like a cow chewing on it's cud. "That was odd," he said. He shook his head as if to snap himself back to reality. "So anyway, since you two don't know how to count, I think it's time I sent you to school. I don't even know why you aren't in school in the first place. Come to think of it, why are you still in my house? Don't you have parents you should be going home to?"

Frodo glared at Uncle Rico. Ooh…a glaring hobbit. Scary. Right. "I don't have any parents. They died. I live…erm…_lived_, I should say, with my Uncle Bilbo."

Woah. Looks like Frodo and Napoleon have more things in common that I thought. I never thought of that before…I mean, they both have curly hair, they both live with their uncles…and…um…that's it. Okay, so they're not that similar.

Uncle Rico glowered at the author for going off track again. The author slapped herself…on the other cheek this time.

"Who you live with doesn't matter, kid. Why are you still in my house?"

"Have we not told you this before? We were brought here from Middle-earth. We're still not sure how that happened exactly. At any rate, we're going to stay here until we figure that out."

Uncle Rico crossed his arms. "Well, if you insist on staying here, then you have to go to school so that you can at least learn how to count properly when you're bored."

"But…"

"No excuses, kid. You're going if I have to drag you all the way there myself."

Sam glanced over at Frodo. "I don't think I'm going to like this one bit, Mr. Frodo."

"Me neither, Sam, me neither. And Sam?"

"Yes, Mr. Frodo?"

"STOP CALLING ME MR. FRODO! Just call me Frodo. If you have to use Mr., then call me Mr. Baggins. It just doesn't make any sense for you to use my first name when you address me as Mr. Do you understand?"

Sam nodded. "Yes, Mr…Mr…um…"

Frodo raised an eyebrow.

"Mr…Mr…B…ugh. Mr…Ba…Bag…Mr…"

"Oh, confound it, Sam, it's not that hard!"

"I'm sorry Fr—Fro…Fr…Fffffff….."

Frodo rolled his eyes. "Alright! If it's really that difficult for you…"

"Thank you, Mr. Frodo."

Frodo sighed, shaking his head shamefully.

"You kids are really something else, you know that?" said Uncle Rico, swallowing his last chunk of meat. "Now then. Off we go."

* * *

"You want to enroll two ten-year old kids into this high school?" asked the school admissions lady, lazily chewing on a piece of gum.

Geez. Looks like I got a lot of people chewing on stuff in this chapter. Anywho…

"Napoleon goes here, doesn't he?" Uncle Rico answered, a look of disbelief on his face. "So why can't they?"

The admissions lady stared at him for a moment, her eyes glazing over. "Yeah…you've got a point there." She sighed heavily in resignation. Alright, I'll tell you what. I'll enroll them, but if they cause any trouble, they're out. Got that?"

Uncle Rico flashed the lady one of his "charming" smiles. You know the one. "Well, thank you very much, Mrs…uh," he checked the nametag on the desk, "Mrs. Heifer-son."

The admissions lady gave Uncle Rico a dark look. "It's Mrs. _Jefferson_. Perhaps you should think about enrolling here."

Uncle Rico chuckled. "Heh. That's a good one, ma'am, but I graduated high school a long time ago. I could have made the championships, I tell you. I could have done it!"

"Whatever. Now then, I want you two to head down to the boys' locker room and get ready for gym class, alright?"

"It looks as if we've no other choice. Let's go, Sam."

The two hobbits left the front desk and found their way to the boys' locker room. I know, they've never been there before, so just how did they know where to go? Because they just do, okay?

I lied. There was a huge sign that said BOYS' LOCKER ROOM at the end of the hall. Savvy?

"Hey, look what we've got here, guys!" shouted Don. "Two little kids! What do you think you guys are doing in here? This is a high school!"

"But it has only got one floor. How is it high?" Sam—the poor dear—wondered.

"Boy, you guys are something, aren't you? What are your names?"

Frodo sighed and rolled his eyes. "I'm Frodo son of Drogo and this is Samwise Gamgee, my gardener. We are hobbits of the Shire, of Hobbiton to be exact."

"Ha! This is great! We've got two kids here who think they're from _Lord of the Rings_ or something!" Don then leaned in close to the hobbits and said in a low, warning voice, "Now you better get out of here before I let my gang beat you up."

He's so mean ain't he? So is everyone else in this town it seems. They don't have a problem with hurting two little "kids." WHAT KIND OF ANIMALS ARE THEY?

"Listen, good sir, but my master and I have fought against the dark riders and I should hardly think that you'd be much of a challenge compared to them."

Don's eyebrows went up. "Did you hear that boys? They think that they can take us on! Let's show them how wrong they are!"

"Oh dear. I don't think I like the look of this Mr. Frodo."

TBC…

A/N: Ah, sorry to leave you hanging there like that. That's mean of me, but next time I write a Frodo and Sam chapter, you'll get to see what happens when a butt load of gangs find out how good at fighting these two hobbits are…

Oh yeah, um, I want to know what all of you want me to do to Galadriel in the next chapter. Should Napoleon make her so angry, she throws the Fellowship out of Lothlórien without any of their gifts (like the cloaks, lembas, and other stuff) or should I have her silently try and tolerate him, trying her best to hold in her anger without exploding? Or should I do something else entirely?

So anyway…

Earendil Eldar: Yeah, I know! I love that show! Did you know that they have it on DVD? Jaina Kenobi and I go see it every week because they show it in the Senate Chambers every Friday at our college. It freaking rocks!

Snodgrass Winkle: Yeah, I kinda realized that as I was reading through it. I should work on that some, eh?

The Hobbit Lass: You like Weird Al too? That's awesome! high fives I like the part in Albuquerque where he says, "Okay so one time, I was out in the parking lot trying to remove my excess earwax with a golf pencil…" You know, that whole part?

Erin: Thanks! Like I've said before to other people, I'm still surprised that I was the first one to think it up. I thought that with Napoleon Dynamite being so popular, there'd already be a bazillion crossovers like this.

Jaina Kenobi: I'm probably helping you procrastinate right now, aren't I? But hey, it's productive procrastination, right? No, I guess not, but still…

jae: I don't know. I've tried to come up with ways to get Pedro to react to stuff, but no matter what I do, he still always has that half bored look on his face. He didn't even laugh at the worlds funniest joke…

Mystical Full Moon Maiden: There you are! I thought you ran away. Anyway…Look! I actually updated soon this time! Go me!

Starsinmypocket: Still babbling, eh? Yes! My evil plan is working! Mwa ha ha ha ha! Now, if I could only get everyone else to do that, I could TAKE OVER THE WORLD! That was random. Sorry about that. I'm tired…


	14. Interlude of Random Insanity

A/N: Ah, but I'm afraid to inform you all that I've left my copy of _The Fellowship of the Ring_ at home and I cannot continue until I have it. So instead, here's an interlude of sorts—the random kind. I think this story needs a random interlude anyway and so does Jaina. It was her idea, actually.

Have any of you ever seen _Help!_—the Beatles' movie? If you have, well, this is kind of going to be like that except not because it's written instead of visual.

Interlude of Random Insanity 

This interlude of random insanity has been brought to you by the lovely ladies of 3SW (mostly Anne), Star Wars, and random other stuff that should pop into my head while I write this.

WARNING! If random insanity scares the living daylights out of you, then I suggest you go do something else like tend to the cat that you've been neglecting these past few days while reading fanfics. I'm sure the poor little bugger would appreciate getting some food.

:ahem:

Only an hour and a half until it's Friday! Yippee skippy!

But is it really only an hour and a half, or is it all just an illusion? People say time is an illusion, but how is this so when we have both a past, present, and a future? Does that not signify—ah, this is a boring conversation anyway. Luke! We're going to have company!

Aren't you a little short for a stormtrooper?

Hmm, yes, yes, Luke _is _quite short, ain't he? I'm surprised that Chewie hasn't stepped on him yet—stepped on him and crushed him like a poor hobbit would be beneath the foot of an oliphaunt—which reminds me: I want to roll down the hills of the Shire in a plastic bubble! Would not that be fun? Well, for me it would be. I think the hobbits might get angry at me for destroying their beautiful hills in a shiny, clear bubble of death. A bubble of death is not nearly as bad as a rainbow wheel of death, though. All you Mac OS X users out there…you know what I'm talking about.

"So…" some of you Windows people may ask, referring to the rainbow wheel of doom and despair, "…is it like Neapolitan on crack?" And I must tell you that no, no it is not like Neapolitan on crack. That would be spumoni ice cream. That's different.

Wait, you'll have to excuse me for a moment. I have to go talk to Mister Keener. I mean, Mista Keena. I mean…ugh. You wanna pickle? Because quite frankly, I'm not too fond of pickles anymore. I got sick of them after having eaten so many. You're welcome to have mine. But don't ask me to give you any tots. Those are mine.

Napoleon! I said, "NO TOTS!" Stop trying to steal them from us. You're wicked, tricksy, false. Leave now and never come back!

We told him to go away and away he goes. Gone, gone, gone! Sméagol's free!

Yes, Sméagol's free…at least until he bites off Frodo's finger and falls into the Cracks of Doom. Looks like you got your precious back, but what good does it do you as soon as you dissolve like butter on a hot pan in the lava of the volcano? You didn't think of that, now did you? And why in Hades did you want to bite off Frodo's finger? That's nasty! Now his finger is lost and he must go look for it. What? Don't look at me like that! If your finger was missing, would you not go look for it?

You wouldn't? Well! You're so full of it, you should make squishing sounds when you walk.

I remember watching you, Sméagol, as you lead Frodo and Sam into the lands of Mordor. Yes, you seemed like a harmless little creature, but you frolicked with malicious intent.

Perhaps Napoleon should let Gollum have a go with the time machine. What do you say, Napoleon, do you want to let him give it a try?

"Heck yes. That would be sweet!"

Alright, Gollum, now put this metal bar right…there. Yes, THERE! Do it or it won't work! Okay, Napoleon, are the crystals in place?

"Yes."

Flip the switch!

TIME MACHINE'D!

"Ow! Our most of us!"

"Flippin' retard! You were supposed to hold onto the bar! Gosh!"

Gollum, you look burnt…or dead.

SAILING MISHAP!

Whoops. Bye Napoleon. I'm going to miss you.

"I'm going to miss video games."

Who asked you? And who are you anyway?

"I'm Luke Skywalker and I've come to rescue you."

Rescue me from what? This insanity that is my interlude? Or the flames I might be getting because I failed to update my fic and put this thing in there instead?

"Both."

Ah, good. You'd better rescue me now before it's too late. Nevermind. Too late.

El Fin

A/N: Sorry for putting you guys through that torture. DON'T HURT ME! I promise next week I WILL update my fic and it won't be anymore of this randomness—it'll be the usual randomness with Napoleon driving the elves in Lothlórien absolutely up their tree trunk walls. And since this was an interlude, I will not be doing reviewer responses this time. I shall wait until next time to do that. I completely understand if you give me a review this week saying, "What in the name of all that's good were you thinking writing this?" And I will say, "I was thinking I was bored and rather hyper and I wanted to update this fic somehow."

And then you will respond, "So why didn't you just continue with Frodo and Sam?" at which point I will answer, "Because…because I wanted to do an interlude of random insanity, okay? It's fun to do stuff like that and besides, I still had Napoleon and Gollum in there, didn't I? Doesn't that count?"

You will just shake your head and say, "No, that doesn't count. I'm very disappointed in you, Mireath Warrior. This chapter wasn't at all funny. It scared me."

I will then hang my head low and mumble somberly, "I'm sorry. I'll try better next time. Forgive me? … … … Hello? Hey! Where did you go?"


	15. The Patience or Lack of of Galadriel

A/N: Well, I'm back, not that I ever went anywhere. Anyway, here's the next chapter and this time it's not a bunch of random insaneness.

Chapter 14: The Patience (or Lack Thereof) of Galadriel 

When all the guests were seated before his chair, the Lord looked at them again…and nearly choked on his own phlegm when he laid his eyes upon that notorious, curly-haired, bespectacled lad who went by the uncouth name of Napoleon Dynamite. "Oh dear," he muttered, rubbing his temples. Do all elves do that when they're frustrated? I mean, didn't Elrond and his long-winded council do the same in Rivendell?

Elves! They're all a bunch of conformists!

Anyway, Celeborn started feeling a great headache coming on and completely forgot about Gandalf.

"Gandalf the Grey set out with the Company, but he did not pass the borders of this land," said Galadriel, speaking for the first time.

Celeborn stopped rubbing his temples and glared at his Lady. "What? What are you talking about?"

Galadriel lifted an eyebrow and looked at Celeborn. "Gandalf. He fell. You missed your line and I thought it best to just continue and get back to the real story."

" 'Get…get back to the real story?'" hissed Celeborn. Now look who's going out of character, one of the oh-so-perfect, high-and-mighty elves! Looks like Napoleon's nerd powers are too much for him.

Nerd power! It's _greater_ than the power of the elves! Well, it _is_ nerds, after all, who rule the world. Ha ha ha ha ha!

"Do not anger your Lady, my Lord," said Galadriel calmly. Though on the outside she was calm, on the inside she was trying really really hard not to yell at Napoleon and kick him out of her fair home. I can't blame her. If I had a forest filled with beautiful looking people, the last thing I'd want to see there is some nerdy teenager that looks as if he's half-asleep all the time. That'd just ruin everything.

Aaaaaaaaaat any rate…Celeborn decieed to appease his Lady (he knew how she was angry—her voice would go lower than it already was and she'd turn into negative colors—it was scary). "Alright, I'll try and 'get back to the real story,' if it so pleases you. Ahem! Let me see here…what could I say?"

"Hurry it up, will you? Gosh! I'm getting like really bored standing here. Even Uncle Rico's football tapes are more fun to watch." Mmhmm…right. Just keep telling yourself that, Napoleon. I know I'd rather listen to the never-ending conversations of elves than watch some guy with an odd sort of mid-life crises throwing footballs any day.

Aragorn glared at Napoleon, and rightfully so. You can't just let people talk to elves like that! It's just not right! "Napoleon," he reproached, "now that was uncalled for."

"Not as uncalled for as what I was about to say," grumbled Gimli, angry that he couldn't say what he was supposed to say. Oh wait. That was from the movie. Never mind. Then why did he say that? Huh…whatever.

"At any rate, I see that there are only eight here when nine set out. As Galadriel had so stated, Gandalf fell. What I desire to know is where in the Valar are Frodo and Sam? And who are these two that have replaced them?"

"Idiots! I'm Napoleon Dynamite and this is Pedro. We got here with a time machine we bought online. How many times do I have to tell you guys?"

Well, technically, you only told them twice, but whatever floats your boat. And you might want to watch what you say to the elves.

Speaking of which, Galadriel was practically on the verge of exploding at Napoleon, which—ha ha—would be really really funny. Really.

Let's see how long it'll take for Napoleon to make her mad. Not long, I'll warrant.

"But," said Galadriel, still remaining stoic on the outside, "where are Frodo and Sam?"

Pedro shrugged. "We don't know."

Galadriel sighed heavily. She's about to snap, I just know it. Ooh….maybe she'll even change lovely shades of purple and green. Let's watch. "Well, I do believe we've had enough for today."

"Yes," agreed Celeborn. "Now you shall rest, and we will not speak of your further road for a while."

"I do quite agree," said Boromir with an enthusiastic nod. "And might we sleep in separate locations? We'll sleep in the trees and Napoleon and Pedro can sleep on the ground."

"Why are you guys so mean to us? Retards! You guys are prejudiced!"

"Yeah," muttered Pedro. "That's wrong."

Galadriel clenched her fists beneath her long sleeves. "Go now," she said tightly. "Sleep."

So they did.

But Pedro and Napoleon stayed up late, talking about taking bikes off of sweet jumps. Even as they spoke, they saw Galadriel. Tall and white and fair she walked beneath the trees. She spoke no words. She didn't want to. In fact, she was trying her hardest to ignore the fact that they were there.

"She's pretty," Pedro said.

"No..she's incredible." I think at this point Napoleon was drooling. Ew. She's too old for him! That's…wrong! Argh!

Anyway, the two invaders of Middle-earth decided to follow her, much to her dismay, where she showed them the mirror. She thought maybe she could scare them away with it.

"Here is the Mirror of Galadriel," she said.

Napoleon stared at it for a minute and then said, "Uhhhhhhhhhh…that's a plate with water in it. That's not a mirror."

A snarl flitted across Galadriel's lips. She wringed her hands. "Many things I can command the Mirror to reveal," she answered, "and some I can show what they desire to see. What you will see, if you leave the Mirror free to work, I cannot tell. Do you wish to look?"

_Please let it be something frightening. Please let it be something frightening._ She thought to herself, crossing her fingers.

"Look at what?" wondered Napoleon. "The water? I can see it from here and all I can see is the ripples in it."

This time Galadriel bared her teeth for an instant. "Just look in it, will you?"

"Alright! Maybe I will! Gosh!"

Napoleon stepped forward and looked into the Mirror and saw the lidless, flame wreathed eye of Sauron.

But he wasn't impressed.

I think he's been playing too many RPGs or something. He's become desensitized. Dun-dun-dun. "It's an eye. Is it supposed to be scary? Because it's not."

At this point, Galadriel had had it with this strange intruder and snapped. She did the thing where she turns all dark and scary and said in that frightening voice, "Get out! Leave this forest now and never come back! I don't even care about that Ring anymore! Get out!"

"Fine! You're worse than my Uncle Rico! But…can we leave tomorrow? We still need some sleep,"

Galadriel returned to normal and sighed, "I will allow you this, but when morning comes, you must go."

As Napoleon and Pedro walked away, Pedro said, "She's still very pretty."

"Yeah," said Napoleon, "but she's really mean. I like her sleeves, though."

TBC…

A/N: I'm afraid I shan't be doing review responses this week either as I've seemed to run out of clever things to say for the time being. I apologize for the inconvenience and have gone to the trouble of making you all cookies. :holds out box of cookies:


	16. A Butt Load of Gangs

A/N: Next chappy! Yay! And this is the second update I've done in less than two days because I updated my other fic, which hadn't been updated for over a month…

Disclaimer: I use a quote from _The Emperor's New Groove_. I don't own that either.

Chapter 15: A Butt Load of Gangs

Frodo and Sam stood on top of the locker room bench, looking at the carnage below. On the floor lay Don and his cronies, battered and bruised, groaning and moaning. And the moral of today's story is don't mess with a hobbit. They might look all cute and cuddly and stuff, but they can sure be vicious when they want to (didn't I already go over this?)—just like the killer rabbit in _Monty Python and the Holy Grail_. I suppose it's a good thing Don doesn't have Brother Maynard around with that Holy Hand Grenade, eh?

So anyway, this kid who was all decked out in a druid costumed and was carrying a plastic staff (he was one of those weird live action role players, otherwise known as LARPs) walked in and saw the bodies strewn everywhere and the two hobbits standing over them. "Wow," he said in what had to be the nerdiest voice ever. "You guys have some skills there. Nice hobbit costumes, by the way. They look authentic."

Frodo looked down at his shirt and then back up at the weird kid. "Costumes? These are our clothes," he said. He was starting to get quite irritated that nobody seemed to think that he and Sam were actually hobbits. I mean, if hobbits existed in Middle-earth, would they not also exist elsewhere?

"Yes, as these are my real clothes," said the nerdy druid kid, rolling his eyes. "But seeing as you've somehow managed to knock out Don and his cohorts, I'm quite impressed. That's even better than what Napoleon can do with his bo staff. Would you two like to join my gang?"

Yes, that right, the so-called "butt load of gangs" Napoleon was boasting about was really just this weird kid with a druid fetish. I think Napoleon flatters himself too much. I mean, he did think that horrendous piece of crap that was his drawing of Trisha was one of the best things he's ever done. Ugh. Seriously.

Yeah…so, um, where was I? Oh yeah:

Frodo gave the druid kid an odd look. "I'm not sure I know what a gang is, but neither do I think I should want to join one."

Yes, but if you'd have stayed in Middle-earth, you would have been a part of the Fellowship of the Ring, which is a Middle-earth version of a gang, I suppose. What? Seriously, they go around killing orcs and stuff. Isn't that kind of what real gangs do?

Okay, you're right. They're both very different and not alike at all in any way whatsoever. I apologize for trying to make a connection between them.

The druid kid tried not to look disappointed. He was in desperate need of some friends. "Alright," he sighed. "I suppose you don't have to join if you don't want."

Sam turned to Frodo. "Look at him, Mr. Frodo. He looks so sad. Why can't we join to make him happy?"

Frodo glared at his friend. "Are you mad?"

That's exactly what I was thinking. I bet if Sauron had approached dear Samwise, asking for the Ring, using puppy dog eyes on him, he'd have not hesitated in giving it over to him. And as we all know, that would have been really really bad.

Really.

"Why not, Mr. Frodo?" Sam begged.

"Because we don't want to be hanging around strange people."

Like you haven't been doing that already? Right. At least Kip and Uncle Rico will be glad to know they're not what Frodo would call "strange people."

Frodo then turned to face the druid kid again. "We've made our decision," he began, giving Sam a warning glance before he could protest, "we are not going to join your gang. Now…begone! Or however I get rid of you."

"That'll work," replied the druid kid and he vanished in a puff of smoke.

TBC…

A/N: And now the moment you've all been waiting for…Reviewer Responses!

Earendil Eldar: Yes, of course he'd like her sleeves! They're…they're incredible.

Mizamour: Yay! You gave me a smilie! I like smilies. They just look so happy all the time.

Romen: I'm sorry my cookies were kinda out of season, but I'm glad you liked 'em anyway. Here's a fresh batch of them. :holds out:

iae: Okay, here's an ice cream sandwich. It might be a little melty, though, so be careful.

Mystical Full Moon Maiden: You mean like this? _"Alright, I've had enough of you!" Galadriel shrieked, turning lovely shades of purple and green. She then pulled out a sharp and pointy object that was also really shiny. _And so on…

The Hobbit Lass: Yes, nerd power is the strongest power anywhere. Nerds do, after all, rule the world.

KaliedescopeCat: Nope. They're not puffy. I'm sure Deb could make them puffy for her, though…

Reggie Tuesday: Yeah, that is weird. But then again, it's Napoleon and he's weird.

Master Akane: They're snicker doodles if you want them to be. And you'll have to wait and see what she does with the gifts. :evil laugh:

Joou Himeko Dah: Yes, Napoleon deserves Galadriel's wrath for making her so mad. If Aragorn finds out what he did…he's in for it.

Nolitari: Yep, elves have a strange thing for rubbing their temples. They especially like doing it simultaneously with each other.

Jaina Kenobi: Nope, not the first reviewer. Sadness. And the cookies can be shiny if they have lost of frosting on them, I guess.

Yay! That's all for now. So until next time: (insert clever parting comment here).


	17. Heck Yes!

A/N: Hi, again everyone! I must apologize for taking long to update but seeing as it's summer break and all, I just kind of…um, do other stuff…

Anyway, here's the next chapter.

Chapter 16: Heck Yes!

"Now it is time to drink the cup of farewell," said Galadriel. _Thank the Valar, _she thought bitterly to herself, glaring at Napoleon and Pedro. She fingered something sharp and shiny underneath her sleeve in the case she'd be tempted to use it. A little harsh now are we, Galadriel? Come now, an elf can't be like that. It's OOC!

"Do we get our gifts now or what?" asked Napoleon, looking at her through those half-closed eyes. Is he half asleep all the time or something?

Galadriel gritted her teeth and handed Aragorn a sheath for his sword. "Do not hesitate to use your sword on him if you must," she whispered to him.

"My Lady!" he exclaimed. "Such words I should never have thought to hear from lips so fair!"

"And neither would you have if that…that _moron_, were not here!"

"Why is her face turning purple?" Pedro asked Napoleon.

Napoleon shrugged. Like he'd know anyway.

Well, my dear, it's turning purple because that's much funnier to imagine than her face turning red. I mean, a face turning red in anger is so clichéd. But turning purple isn't! Is it?

Not wanting to spend another second more near those two strange kids, Galadriel decided not to give Aragorn the other gifts she was going to give him and moved on to Boromir who looked as if he were about to go completely nuts at any second. She pitied him. Instead of giving him a golden belt as she had intended, she gave him a large phial filled with water. "I give you this in the case that being around such…fools (for lack of a better word) should cause you to spontaneously combust."

"Thank you, my Lady," Boromir replied.

By the way things are going, he's probably going to need that. (Author laughs evilly).

To Merry and Pippin, Galadriel gave small silver belts. "What is this?" said Pippin. "In the movie we got knives, not useless belts! I've already got one! I don't need another!"

Oh! I'd watch your complaining right now, Pippin! Galadriel might pull that sharp pointy object from her sleeve on you if you're not too careful! And it's probably a good thing Sam isn't there to call her Mr. Galadriel. Normally, she might have just laughed it off, but the way she is right now…hoo boy!

Galadriel smiled grimly at Pippin and restrained herself from harming him. She moved on to Legolas and gave him a bow such as those that the Galadhrim used. In its bowstring was the hair of an elf. Like that makes any sense. What's it supposed to do? Make it look pretty? Because I don't think that just one hair's going to accomplish that and if you made the whole thing out of elf hair, then it would not be a functioning bowstring, now would it? I'd tell you what does make a good bowstring, but you might be grossed out by it if you don't know already what it is.

Then Galadriel gave Napoleon and Pedro a miss and went straight on to Gimli. "And what gift would a Dwarf ask of the Elves?" she said, turning to him.

And then, of course, we all know he eventually asks her for a single strand of her hair and she gives him three. What's with the elf hair? Why is it so special? Someone tell me!

Galadriel sighed inwardly, thoroughly glad that this was all over. "Now that I have given all the gifts I have to give, I bid you all to leave and have a swift journey." _So that I may at last be rid of those two imbeciles._

And of course Napoleon had to ask, "Don't we get a gift? GOSH!"

Galadriel tried her very hardest to maintain her gracious visage. "I am sorry, but I have no gifts that would suit two Men such as yourselves." She quickly pocketed the crystal phial she would have given to Frodo and the box of earth (brought to you by the letter G) to Sam.

"Well, if you don't have anything to give us, that's alright, I guess. But I have a gift I want to give you, my Lady," said Napoleon, trying to act all proper and stuff, but it wasn't working.

Pedro leaned over and whispered, "Did you draw her a picture?"

"Heck yes, I did!" Napoleon whispered back. He then took out the picture he'd drawn and handed it to her. And as we all know, it was the most horrendous piece of fan art anyone has ever done of Galadriel. "I spent three hours shading your nose, especially the left nostril."

Galadriel took the drawing and did not have to look long at it before she snapped at seeing such an atrocious representation of herself. She couldn't restrain herself any longer. She pulled out her sharp and pointy object, turning those lovely shades of purple and green we've all been waiting to see, and held it level between Napoleon's eyes. "Get out!" she shrieked, frightening not only the members of the Fellowship, but all the other Elves. "Get out!"

Frightened beyond belief, the Company high tailed it out of there in their little canoes. No warm farewell for you.

As they went swiftly as they could down the river, Aragorn glared at his two exceedingly irritating companions. "I hope you are happy, angering the Lady of the Wood so."

"Nice work, laddies," grumbled Gimli. "Now I'll never be welcome back there again and that was one of my dearest wishes."

But that's what you get for traveling with Napoleon and Pedro, no? Heh heh heh.

TBC…

A/N: At the risk of failing to come up with clever comments for Reviewer Responses, I think I shall not be doing them for now. But don't leave 'cuz of that! If you do, I'll be really, really sad because I like reading them all! It's just getting difficult for me to do them all the time. Please, feel free to take some candy, though—but you can only have one if you review. Or else…


	18. Flying Steak

Chapter 17: A Brief Mention of A Flying Steak

A flying steak came out of nowhere and hit Frodo in the face.

"See! I told you I could hit him," crowed Uncle Rico to Kip.

Well, yes, hitting someone in the face with a steak while sitting on a porch shows you have a good arm and are a good shot, but what a waste of food! Do you have any idea how much a steak costs?

Then again, seeing how much Uncle Rico loves steak, he'll probably just ignore the whole five second rule and eat the steak anyway.

Frodo sighed, "Sam, I'm tired of this."

"What? Steak hitting you in the face?"

"Of course not. I mean, I want to go home, Sam."

Sure you do—at least until you get hunted down by orcs, run into a strange fellow with two personalities, get nearly eaten by a spider, and have your finger chewed off. (Sounds like a picnic.) I think through all that you'd probably wish you were back in Idaho.

"I wish we could go home too, Mr. Frodo. But how do you think we're going to do that?"

Uncle Rico strained to hear what the two "kids" were talking about. "Hey!" he shouted. "Secrets don't make friends and friends don't make secrets!"

Like they were ever your friends in the first place.

Then Sam got an idea. "Mr. Frodo, I remember seeing a strange thing in the house. Mr. Kip said that it was a time machine. Maybe that can get us home!"

* * *

"It says that you need to put the crystals in that thing," read Sam as Frodo sat with the metal bar between his legs. 

I hope those are the right crystals…

Frodo picked up the clear rocks. "Are you sure? These don't look…well, they don't look _right_."

"Oh no, Mr. Frodo, not _those_ crystals. These ones." Sam picked up the correct crystals and handed them to Frodo. "They look like the one Gandalf has on his staff. That means they're full of magic. Right, Mr. Frodo?"

"I suppose," Frodo replied, setting them in their proper place.

Whew! That was a close one, if you know what I mean…

"Alright," said Sam, reading again from the instructions. "Make sure the bar's in place and then I'll flip the switch. Ready?"

"I'm ready, Sam. Let's go home. Now flip the switch!"

Sam obeyed and…

…the author of this fic leaves you with a cruel cliffhanger! Oh no!

TBC…

A/N: Well, that was a really short chapter. But hey, they can't _all _be long, can they? Variety's good, right?

Wow, they keep changing the way things are done on this site! It's confusing me! _cries_


	19. Spontaneous Human Combustion

'Sup fools? The name's Marshie. That's capital "M" and then "arshie." I'm going this way!

Sorry, been watching too many things on homestarrunner. So anyway, on to the next chapter.

Chapter 18: Spontaneous Human Combustion

Aragorn led the Company to the right arm of the river. As opposed to the left leg. Yeah, I know. You all saw that coming.

Anyway, then there's some pages where Tolkien takes awhile describing stuff…as usual. Then we get back to the more interesting stuff. At this point in the story, all the Fellowship, save Napoleon and Pedro, were quite annoyed. Gimli had murderous thoughts involving his axe and the two idiots' skulls. Bad Gimli! Bad! That's not very nice at all! Now go sit in the corner!

Okay, so anywho, Aragorn was just trying as best as he could to ignore them while Merry, Pippin, and Legolas were being driven near to the point of insanity what with all the remarks Napoleon kept making. You know, the usual "Friggin' idiots!" "Gosh!" and "You guys are so retarded!"

As for Boromir, well, he was completely red in the face now with irritation and anger. I think by now, that became the permanent color of his face. And on top of that, he didn't really want the Ring anymore. Trying to talk Napoleon into giving it to him just wasn't worth his trouble, he thought. What was was trying to convince the bespectacled boy and his constantly bored friend (who still, by the way, hadn't smiled this whole trip).

The Fellowship decided to rest along the river before continuing on. And we all know what a mistake that was. But oh well…whatever. As the others talked with each other, trying their best to ignore Napoleon and Pedro, Napoleon decided to go for a little walk in the forest. Of course, he couldn't leave Pedro behind, so he dragged him along with. "I don't think they like us very much," said Napoleon. Gee whatever gave you that idea.

"Yeah," Pedro agreed—with Napoleon, not me. "Not very much. How can we get them to like us?"

"I don't know. Got any ideas?"

Of course he doesn't. That's why he asked you first. Duh.

"Maybe we could build them a cake."

"Good idea, Pedro," Napoleon said in that bored voice of his. I guess the boredom he experienced during the Council of Elrond hasn't worn off yet. "But where are we going to get the stuff to do that?"

Pedro shrugged and then the pair heard the rustling of leaves and pine needles further down the hill. It was Boromir and yes, his face is still red, thank you very much.

"I think he's mad," muttered Pedro. No, really?

Boromir strode right up to them and said, "Listen here, you—"

But he stopped. All of the sudden, Napoleon and Pedro vanished, leaving behind the Ring. It fell from the air where Napoleon had been holding it and it landed amongst the leaves. Boromir was confused—not that he hadn't been confused already. But there was the Ring right in front of him for the taking! He wasn't sure what exactly was going on, but he didn't care. He had the Ring, Napoleon and Pedro were finally gone, and that was all that mattered. He bent over to pick up the golden thing, when suddenly, Frodo appeared right in front of him. Seeing the Ring on the ground and the crazed look in Boromir's eyes (which, if Frodo had been there the whole time, he'd realize it as normal by now), he snatched it up and put the chain round his neck.

Boromir about had a heart attack. What in the world was going on? He wondered. Then that's when it happened. His mind had had enough and it exploded, and he suddenly caught on fire. Spontaneous human combustion! And that's what killed Boromir, not an Uruk-hai. This scared the heck out of Frodo, who quickly put on the Ring and ran away as fast as he could, not caring that he didn't know where the sam hill Sam was.

Down at the river bank, Sam suddenly popped into existence right beside Gimli. Gimli fell backwards in surprise. So did Legolas, who was about to sit right down next to the spot where he had appeared. Merry and Pippin blinked. Aragorn stood, a quizzical look on his face. "Where did you come from, Sam?" Shouldn't you be asking your parents that? Geez, Aragorn.

Sam looked as confused as everyone else, but tried to answer. "Me and Mr. Frodo, we found this time machine and used it to get back here."

"Oh, for the love of the Shire, don't start talking about time machines!" groaned Pippin. "That's what started the whole mess we're in right now!"

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, but have any of you seen Mr. Frodo?"

Aragorn shook his head. Then in the distance, there came the screams of Boromir spontaneously combusting. "What say we go see what that was all about?" suggested Merry.

"Good idea," Aragorn agreed, picking up his sword and running up into the forest. And the rest is history. Sort of. Because, you know, Napoleon and Pedro kinda changed things somewhat. But I'll tell you one thing, when Aragorn and the others saw that Boromir had been burned to death rather than shot to death, they were…well, they were horrified and decided it best not to send his body down the river lest anyone with a weak constitution should see it and make pretty rainbow colors all over the ground. So instead, they just buried it. And _then_ the story continued pretty much as Tolkien had intended it to, thank goodness.

But as for Napoleon and Pedro, they'd returned back to Idaho, safe and sound. Nobody seemed to have noticed that they'd ever gone anywhere and they seemed to have mysteriously forgotten about Frodo and Sam. Why? Nobody knows…

Napoleon and Pedro, however, did remember that they'd used the time machine and that they'd been to Middle-earth. Napoleon was very angry that they were no longer there. "What happened? Gosh! All the sudden we're back here again!"

"Yeah," Pedro muttered. Whether he was happy, disappointed, or whatever, I can't say because I just can't read this guy. He always looks bored!

"Well, I think we should go back," Napoleon said. But when he saw the time machine, it had somehow been completely destroyed. That was a convenient way to stop them from going back, huh? "Ugh! It's broke!"

Pedro looked at the exploded metal box that had once been the time machine. "Oh."

Then Uncle Rico walked in the room. "What did you do, Napoleon? Stick firecrackers in that thing? Why don't you clean this up and then go feed Tina. She's hungry."

"Uhhhhhhhhh……." Napoleon groaned.

Yep, everything was pretty much back to the way it should be. Well, sorta. Kip got so mad that the time machine had been broken that he did something really out of character: he actually slapped Napoleon hard enough to give him a bruise. I guess his training to be a cage fighter is really working, eh?

THE END

A/N: Yeah, I know. You're all sad now that it's come to an end. But hey, I can't keep writing it forever. I suppose I could, but then I'd have no life or something like that. So yeah…it's done…of course until Kip buys another time machine…

Then who knows what'll happen?


End file.
